Living In The Same World
by A-Simple-Rainbow
Summary: Drunk, Kurt Hummel makes a humiliating mistake: A quick flick of his eyes, over the man's shoulder and towards the door reveals another man standing there. This second man is taller and bigger. Muscles stretching out a tacky imitation of a police uniform as he holds a boom box under his arm, standing right behind the (Oh god) actual police officer. (AU, policeman!Blaine)
1. Chapter 1

_(I'm sorry if this shows up on everyone's alert as a new chapter or whatever, but I just noticed that the separation between parts were missing, except one, and had to fix them.)_

The party is in full swing.

Kurt eyes it all from the top of his fifth drink and giggles.

He's tipsy.

The bride-to-be is engaging in the worst kind of dance moves ever. Kurt should probably videotape it for future reference. Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson pop into his mind and he considers showing it at the ceremony but then scolds himself. Kurt was the one who broke up with Brandon – he didn't_ want _to be with Brandon. Sure, he hadn't expected Brandon to find his one true love _first_ and have his big fat wedding _first_. And he certainly didn't expect it to be to a _woman_.

And, most of all, he didn't expect to be hired to plan said wedding.

Ever since he heard the news there's been a nagging voice at the back of Kurt's head that keeps muttering 'you made him straight! You made him straight!', no matter how much Kurt tells himself that that's absurd and that Brandon had always identified himself as bisexual, and dated both women _and _men both before and after Kurt. In the end, Kurt decides, planning his ex's wedding to a woman has got to be one the worst ideas he's ever had.

But again: it was Kurt who broke it off.

And Brandon had cried. Like… really cried. Tears and snot and drool.

Really, it's just that, as it is, Kurt is probably well past tipsy and trying very hard to rein his bitterness in – any other time he would've been able to maintain his rational 'there is nothing be bitter about' train of thought, thank you very much.

Drunkness, though, apparently does a great job of interrupting said train of thought, every one minute, with_ feelings_. Feelings of hurt pride, and irrational jealousy. Feelings that the only thing worse than knowing your ex is engaged to a _woman_ is getting the job of planning their wedding. Feelings that it was the worst idea to agree to it, because now he gets to see Brandon happy and engaged to a _woman_. While he goes home to an empty bed.

(Kurt is the worst person in the world, to think of this as a problem. To think he had any right to not be happy for Brandon. To think that Brandon had no right of robbing him of the self-esteem boost that was the image of him slobbering and begging for Kurt not to break up with him.)

No. Alcohol is the worst.

Without alcohol Kurt is a decent human being, alright: you see, it's not even like they could afford his services, so Kurt had promptly offered a friendly discount (that had nothing to do with him feeling guilty about the sort of almost pleasure that the memories of Brandon crying brought him, but everything to do with his genuine happiness for his ex-boyfriend and his not-at-all trashy fiancée).

Long story short, thanks to his self induced guilt-trip, he ended up not only planning the last wedding he wanted to plan, but also invited to the bachelorette party (yes! because him being gay equals going to the all the _girl_ parties! _Of COURSE_!), which, thank goodness, he did not organize (if he had it certainly wouldn't have been this tacky, clichéd, and, well, cheap).

He only said yes because it's bad for business if his clients think he's a bitch. Not that these clients would be in the right tax bracket to recommend his work to any of their friends, anyway.

That was probably a horrible thing to think, though.

Unfortunately, however, he's well beyond buzzed, right into tipsy, verging on drunk territory and ignoring all of that in favor of watching white women making a spectacle of themselves. Being polite or politically correct is the last thing on his priority list.

White, thirty year old women should never be allowed to twerk. Ever. It just looks stupid.

He joins in on the dancing sometimes, but he definitely never twerks.

Trying to stay clear of the dance floor while the twerking workshop is in session, Kurt graciously offers to open the door when the bell ring and – _Oh….!_

_And_ thank god for small mercies because whoever organized this sham of a party had at least one good idea.

A predictable one, true, but good nonetheless – given who they hired.

He eyes the man up and down – not even caring how predatory he must've looked – and he sees that behind him all the women are doing the exact same thing, smiles widening and little yelps and shrieks of excitement tumbling out of their very inebriated lips. He shares a beam with them and turns back to the man.

Seriously, whoever organized this party has absolutely and completely redeemed themselves for the twerking and the tacky penis-themed decorations – two words: good taste.

Slicked back hair, bright hazel eyes, pouty lips, strong chin, and a body… jeez-wiz! A slim, toned body that even the fake uniform can't properly hide. He doesn't look like you'd expect a stripper would – no bulging exaggerated muscles, no oiled up skin, no stuffed crotch, or cocky smirk, and Kurt reckons that someone should really win a medal for good taste and doing the impossible: finding an attractive stripper.

"Let me guess…" Kurt drawls, quirking an eyebrow "Noise complaint?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" the_ officer_ says with a tight tone.

Kurt laughs, as do all women behind him, he feels them practically salivating and someone squeals again. Kurt smirks and tugs him inside by his tie – the man startles and practically stumbles into him "Not enough noise, am I right?!" Kurt teases before ripping the shirt open.

Kurt had been expecting excited screams and squeals, maybe even the sound of someone fainting, but there's silence.

Cold, dead silence.

He had also been expecting a smooth, probably tanned expanse of skin. He finds the white cotton of an undershirt. He looks up at the man's face. His hands drop to his side at once as he takes in the complete mortification in the man's face and the fire in his cheeks.

And if Kurt wasn't sobered up enough by then, a quick flick of his eyes, over the man's shoulder and towards the door reveals another man standing there. This second man is taller and bigger. Muscles stretching out a tacky imitation of a police uniform as he holds a boom box under his arm. He looks just as confused as everyone else, standing right behind the (Oh god) _actual_ police officer.

"Oh no." he blanches.

-x-

Officer Anderson doesn't actually cuff him, but he does get a reading of "You have the right to remain silent blah blah blah" and he does get to ride in the backseat of a police car. The police station isn't, apparently that far, and Kurt groans because, of course, of course it had to be the one right down the block from his own house.

Between the alcohol in his stomach and the complete mortification he's almost proud of not to throwing up all over the car, as they make their way to the precinct. But he definitely doesn't manage to drown out the banter between the two officers on the front seats (well, one banters and the other one tells him to shut up) "Fuck, Anderson, should we change your name to something a little more rowdy… _Officer Sexypants, at your service_!"

"Shut up, Louis. And it's rowdier. It's two syllables, so."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir, are you going to punish me, mister?"

"I swear to god…!"

A moment after the vehicle has finally stopped moving the door swings open. Kurt stumbles out, surprised when a hand comes out to hold his elbow and help him up and steady. "Thanks" he mumbles.

"No problem." The other man says, fastening is jacket all the way up to his chin once he lets go of Kurt. Kurt wants to die of embarrassment: the buttons on the officer's shirt were ripped out and he can't actually close it, so he keeps it hidden under his jacket.

They go inside – it's practically three a.m., so the precinct is basically empty, and Kurt is led to a cell where a homeless looking (and smelling) man is sleeping.

"Do I get my phone call, or is that like… just a movie thing?" Kurt asks in a small voice.

The officer cracks a quick smile and puts a hand on Kurt's back, pressing a little bit "Sure. This way."

Kurt calls Rachel and, of course she would be at her boyfriend's tonight of all nights, but she promises to hurry back and bail him out. It's still better than calling Santana and have _her_ smug ass come pick him up.

He waits as Officer Anderson speaks with another uniformed man and then the latter grabs a jacket and leaves while Anderson comes back towards Kurt. He's escorted back to the cell. Soberness has kicked in with the urge to be sick, but Kurt holds it in the best he can.

Officer Anderson disappears for a few minutes before returning with a new shirt, still buttoning up the collar.

"I'm so sorry!" Kurt gasps before he can even realize he's speaking.

The man stops, startled by Kurt's voice and only stares for a moment before letting out a breathy chuckle and rolling his eyes "It's fine… don't worry about it."

"It's-I'm-Thi" Kurt stops the babbling and sighs before saying "I'm just not like this at all."

He nods and shrugs "Oh, well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later." He chuckles to himself "We're not actually a cop until we get mistaken for a stripper. It's tradition, and I really should be flattered."

Kurt blushes "You're just saying that so I won't feel horrible."

The man actually laughs and scrunches up his nose "Only maybe." He shoots an amused look at Kurt before asking for his driver's license and settling down on a desk not too far away.

Kurt tries not to smile as he says "The effort is appreciated, even if in vain. I'm mortified."

"At least you got a good jail story out of it."

"Ha." Kurt drawls out and the officer gives him a grin before picking up a pen and pulling some kind of form towards himself "I think I'll just swear off alco-" Kurt covers his mouth up before anything can actually come out, swallowing the vomit back down.

"You're going to be sick, aren't you?"

Kurt looks up at the man and only nods, not even daring to take his hands away, lest it come back much more forceful. Officer Anderson moves fast and Kurt has a wastebasket in his hands before he's throwing up the full contents of his stomach into it – it smells like alcohol. It makes him throw up more.

Finally it stops and he looks up, much to his horror, only to find the bright eyed officer crouching right there "Better?"

"Not really" Kurt croaks out "my soul hurts."

"Oh." He nods and, hands on his knees, pushes himself to stand "Bruised egos are the worst."

"They are."

"Shall we keep this here for safety?" He asks, signaling the vomit filled basket. Kurt can't do anything besides nod, and the man smiles softly "I'll go get you some water."

Kurt curls up on the hard, narrow bench and whimpers slightly as he waits. The re-approaching footsteps alert him and he sits up and tries to look halfway composed. He accepts the glass with a half moan "Thank you!"

"No problem." Officer Anderson says and goes back to his desk and, with a sigh and blinking his eyes awake, he starts scribbling on forms.

Kurt tries not to watch him too much. He fails.

In retrospect, he doesn't understand how he could ever mistake him for a stripper. It's not that he isn't hot and gorgeous because, lol, he_ is_ – it's that he's got that boy next door charm, and he looks like pretty much the definition of sweet, or even… innocently charming. He's small (not so much as short – though he is shorter than Kurt, or most men – or even skinny, but just, overall small), his eyes look all bright and eager, his smile seems to constantly be layered with a light blush, and he chews on his lip _a lot_ when he thinks no one else is looking. The gel on his hair and the way he sits with impeccable posture makes him look from a different era altogether. Ultimately, Kurt decides, Officer Anderson looks like that ridiculously charming and genuine boy from your 50's neighborhood with flawless manners that has no idea of how everyone sighs and swoons at the mere sight of him.

And of course that if there were such strippers Kurt would be first in line to their shows, but the very idea is a paradox – instead they have bulging pecs and rock-hard six-packs, oil all over to make their fake-tanned skin shine, and never once is a leering smirk forgotten. It's all horribly… artificial. Which is why Kurt never, ever, ever goes to strip clubs.

In fact, when he thinks about it, Kurt doesn't even know how he threw himself at a supposed stripper – he doesn't like strippers, _at all_. The very concept makes him uneasy. It really is a testimony to how gorgeous and non-strippy he finds Officer Anderson that he did so. Or to how drunk he'd been. Or to both.

Anderson's eyes flicker towards him and Kurt practically falls off the bench in his haste to look away, trying not to curse out loud at having been caught. When Kurt glances back, though, he's looking down at his forms again, pen tapping nervously against the desk and blushing slightly. Kurt can't help smiling a little a the sight.

There's a loud crashing noise and the few heads inside the precinct turn to witness the one and only Rachel Berry scrambling her way in "Kurt?! Oh my god, Kurt?" she calls frantically and now Kurt wishes he would've just called _anyone_ else.

"May I help you?" officer Anderson stands.

"Oh!" She gasps, noticing how maybe talking to one of the officers was the appropriate thing to do "I-I'm here to pick up my friend, Kurt Hummel?"

"Right." He nods "Let me just finish this form and it'll be just a minute before you can head out, I promise! Oh, and the glamour shot!…" He glances at Kurt, who's trying to make himself invisible, hands covering every inch of his face, except his eyes, and smiles softly.

-x-

"I have never, ever, ever, ever-"

"Is this going to be a Taylor Swift song?" Santana interrupts and Kurt glares at her.

"_Ever_ been this humiliated."

"Na… I think prom Queen still takes the crown." She shrugs, and while Rachel gapes at her total lack of sympathy, Kurt almost admires it.

"Pun intended?"

"Of course." She scoffs, before smirking "Was he hot?"

"That's wildly off the point."

"He was though, wasn't he?"

Rachel hums in thought before saying "I wouldn't say _hot_, so much as I would cute, dashing and charming… I think… yes, I think those are the right words."

"Oh!" Santana smirks "But, ladylips, that makes so much more sense."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know your type."

"I don't have a type."

"You totally do." Santana chuckles.

"I do not!"

"Oh, you do, sweetie." Rachel reaches over and squeezes his hand with a smile that isn't entirely as sweet as she wants it to be "You have a type, and it's definitely cute and charming. And it's definitely sitting over at the precinct in dashing blue. And, honey, oh, honey, it was definitely eyeing you up."

"Stop that!" Kurt feels his face burn "he was looking at me because I confused him for a stripper, _ripped _his shirt wide open and then spent like five minutes throwing up into his paper basket."

"You should totally chat him up."

"And say what? I wouldn't mind ripping your shirt open again, do you wanna go get some coffee?"

"For instance."

"You're insane."

"No, she's not entirely insane." Rachel says, appeasing both of them with a smile "What if you just went over there, in a more… dignified state and tell him how terribly sorry you are…? Maybe offer to buy him dinner as an apology?"

"Rachel. Santana. You are _both_ insane and I need to go to bed. Also, I will be moving out. Soon."

"No, you won't."

"No." he agrees haughtily "You're absolutely right, I won't. _You_ will, because last time I checked, this house was actually min-"

"And you invited us to live with you because you couldn't stand the empty home." Santana interrupts with a smirk "You love us and you know it. Don't fight the love, Hummel, it's not a good color on you."

He glares. He sighs. "I'm going to bed. I have a wedding to coordinate tomorrow." He announces, standing and starting towards his bedroom without so much as a smile or a goodbye "Somehow" he adds under his breath.

The next day – having slept a total of two hours – he leaves the house with a splitting headache and tremendous hate for sunny, sunny days (great for weddings, horrible for hangovers). "Coffee…" he mumbles, before he starts towards his favorite shop (quaint and understated). It's not until he's walking right past it that he remembers the police station is right in front of it. And it's not until he spots Officer Anderson leaving (looking absolutely exhausted, tie loose and hair undone) that he wishes he had taken his coffee at home (despite the burnt flavor their coffeemaker always leaves).

To his surprise, though, when their eyes meet, the other man is the first one to smile brightly and wave. Probably looking brain-dead, Kurt manages to raise his hand back in greeting. The officer nods and continues on his way, while Kurt remains rooted to his place on the sidewalk, watching him leave, Santana and Rachel's words echoing painfully in his mind.

He so has a type.

With a sigh he turns on his heels and goes inside.

The wedding goes off without a hitch, miraculously.

-x-

Sometimes Kurt wonders if he should just stop trying to do the right thing. It always seems to backfire.

Ok. Maybe he's exaggerating.

He can't actually remember _any _time it's backfired before this very moment. This is probably number one. But still. He's pretty sure trying to stop a domestic fight in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night (so that was probably a bad idea to start with), should not warrant running for his life.

There had been a punch to his face, though. A probably perfect right hook that got him right on the cheekbone before he had the good sense of turning on his heel and sprinting away, managing to keep fifty feet between him and the guy chasing him.

He always was a fast runner (a survival must at high school). That and the guy trying to kill him with his bare hands is wearing baggy jeans, low on his hips. Ha! Crimes of fashion do punish.

And hey, at least Kurt got him to stop hitting the girl. That's gotta be a good thing.

He turns the corner and wants to cry in excitement because he recognizes the street. And the boy must've recognized it too because his footsteps halt at once.

"Fuck!" Kurt hears, but continues sprinting without daring to pause or slowing down "YEAH, KEEP RUNNING YOU FAGGOT!" Kurt practically falls on his ass as he tries to halt in time to turn towards the precinct door "I'LL FIND YA AGAIN, AND I'LL KILL YA, I WILL!"

Kurt yanks it open and stumbles inside, closing the door right behind him and pressing all his weight against it as his breaths come up frantic.

The only two heads in the precinct at this time turn to look at him.

"Kurt?"

"… guy… hit… girl… stop'im… hit… me… ran…" he lets out in breathless gasps. Officer Anderson has jumped off his desk and is standing in front of Kurt all of a sudden, frowning with worry and holding a hand to Kurt's shoulder.

"Ok, wait, breathe." he says calmly "Just get your breath back…"

Kurt does. He closes his eyes and takes deep, ragged intakes of air. It's actually painful. His right side is cramping up with a huge stitch and he puts one hand there to squeeze his stomach but that barely helps. He figures maybe it's time he starts exercising outside of the random yoga class and the few morning exercises.

When he thinks he might have the power of speech back he looks up to find Officer Anderson still standing there, still frowning with worry, and still holding a hand to his shoulder. "I was… I was walking home… and there was this guy… and a girl and I heard her screaming… and she was… was trying to get away from him… so I went oh-… over there… and I told him to let her be… and… and next thing I know… he punches me in the face… so I just… I started running… and… he stopped chasing me after he knew… knew I was coming here…" his breaths are still fucked up and coming up in the middle of his sentences, but at least he can make himself understood.

The man's eyes widen and he nods "Alright, ok, that explains the bruise and the cut, but maybe you should take a seat…?" He gestures towards his own desk and Kurt follows him with weak, shaky legs, sitting promptly on the chair "Do you want to press charges?" he asks, half-sitting on his desk.

"I… I don't even know who he is. I just…. I hope the girl's ok."

"Can you give me a description?"

"Huh… tall… and kind of big… baggy clothes… his pants were halfway down his ass, I guess. I think his hoodie was black or some other dark color. He had a white beanie. There were headphones around his neck… the bulky kind. Green, I think."

"I… wait… hang on a sec." Anderson takes a radio and mumbles something into it, it crackles back with a response Kurt isn't all too sure he understands "If the patrol car managed to find him, would you be able to identify him?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Alright. So while we wait, maybe you could give me your deposition?"

"Sure. I guess... it's pretty much the same I just told you…?"

Anderson nods "With as much detail as you can remember." He stands "But first, let me go get a first aid kit and an icepack for that cheek, Kurt…"

"Oh, right…" Kurt blushes and suddenly realizes that, holy shit, the guy remembers his name. Almost a week later and he remembers Kurt's name.

Before Kurt can get over that fact, the guy's back with a small red box and a blue pack. He opens the box and takes out a piece of gauze and disinfectant. "Might sting." He mutters and Kurt steels himself, but it doesn't actually sting all that much so he has absolutely nothing to distract him from the proximity between the two of them. The officer is biting on his own lip, in concentration, his hazel eyes focused on Kurt's cheek. Kurt decides he could spend his whole life just staring into those eyes.

Hazel meets blue and Kurt immediately looks away, ducking his face and blushing. Anderson says nothing, and from the corner of his eye Kurt sees him hesitate before looking away, too. There's a rustling noise and Kurt looks to find the officer taking out a small Band-Aid. He can feel the man's fingertips brush his skin as he puts it on, and that only makes his face burn hotter.

"Right, there you go!" the man says, holding the ice-pack carefully to the bruise, until Kurt finally regains brain function and raises his own hand to hold it up himself. After closing the box and brushing his hands Anderson sits back on his desk and pulls his keyboard to himself, hitting a few keys before saying "So, how about that deposition?"

Kurt sighs and tells the story yet again, with as much detail as possible, all the while holding the icepack against his cheek.

"That was a good idea,…" the officer says, once Kurt finishes "Coming here, I mean. Not getting in the middle of a fight – that wasn't all that smart."

"What should I have done, then? Just let him hit her?"

"Call the police…?" Anderson offers with a teasing smirk.

"Right… but you'd have taken time to get there. And… well. Immediate action had to be taken. What would you have done?"

"I'd have arrested him, Kurt. That's my job."

"Right." Kurt blushes under Anderson's amused gaze.

"It's still honorable." His voice is soft and tentative and Kurt looks up to find him looking slightly nervous "And brave. Admirable, really. Even if reckless and dangerous." Kurt perks up, beaming under the praise and Anderson rolls his eyes and adds "But don't make a habit out of it. I'm not condoning it."

"I won't, officer."

"Good. You look good with limbs attached." Kurt gapes as the man himself looks surprised at his own words, eyes wide and cheeks coloring. Anderson is suddenly gazing at his own hands.

"Huh, right. I suppose so. Legless isn't really on the- oh my god, I'm a horrible person!"

Anderson chuckles nervously, rubbing a hand through his face before clicking a button and suddenly the printer on the desk is making noises and a piece of paper emerges slowly.

"I'll just need your signature on thi-"

The front door opens and two policemen enter, a young man between them, with baggy clothes, a white beanie and green headphones.

"We found him peeing on a car." One of them says, and Anderson stands at once, smiles at his colleague but blocks Kurt from view.

"Get him inside." He says "We'll be right in."

The two uniformed men must have complied because there's shuffling noise and an affronted "Get off me!" and then, as they walked away, somewhere Kurt couldn't see, his screaming was still audible, even if farther away "That was the faggot, wasn't it?! What's his name?! I'm gonna kill him!"

"He's not going to kill you." Anderson says at once, turning round to face Kurt.

"Oh, I know." Kurt shrugs trying to look nonchalant and unaffected "None of them _ever _do. Promises, promises, promises! All liars, the lot of them."

Anderson looks at him for a long while, a smile forming before he cocks his head and chuckles "Oh, so you've got a history of stopping violent men in the middle of the street, then?"

"Yes!" Kurt laughs "Wedding planner by day, vigilante by night."

"Oh, haven't you ever seen Batman? I'm actually supposed to arrest vigilantes."

"Oh, but you already did." Kurt points out and Anderson nods.

With a dashing smile Anderson gestures towards the hallway where the men had disappeared "Shall we? Identification awaits you, dark knight."

Kurt merely nods, putting the icepack down and trying to contain his smile as he follows him inside.

"Oh, these things actually do exist!" Kurt gasps as he enters a room with a window to another room with a scale on the wall, where the idiot was standing alone.

Anderson chuckles next to him and asks "So, is this the man who attacked you?"

Kurt watches the man carefully, even if it's not that hard to know the answer. "Yes." He says with certainty.

"Alright, then." He pushes a button and says "Positive identification."

"Shouldn't there like… be five other guys standing next to him or something?"

Blaine gives him an amused look.

"Movie myth?"

"Kind of, not really. Usually there are, but… we just don't really have those guys ready in the middle of the night and on such short notice… and anyway, you are sure, right?"

"Of course! Obviously!"

"Also, he was found peeing on the street, which is in itself an offense, so…"

He escorts Kurt back to the desk, where he picks up the paper from the printer and a pen "I'll need your autograph." He requests with a smile and Kurt returns it as he picks up the paper. He reads over it, decides that everything written is true and signs it.

"Well… Is that all, officer?"

Anderson nods "For now, yes, I can take it from here. We will contact you if and when there's anything else, but it's late and I suppose you might want a good night's sleep."

Kurt hesitates before he takes out his wallet and finds a contact card "In case you need anything else."

"I hum… I actually have all your information…" Anderson says awkwardly "from, huh, from the other night, but thanks." He takes the card.

"Ah! Right… well… it's just a little more becoming to me if you get my number from a card and not from an arrest report."

"I imagine so." He says before glancing at the card and putting it on his desk.

"I never did hear anything else from that night, by the way. Shouldn't I have to attend a hearing or… something?" he frowns, knowing he probably sounds stupid "I'm just… really going off from what I've seen in movies and TV, because I've never been arrested. I have no idea how this works."

"Oh." Anderson looks a little startled "Oh, no… No. There won't be… I, huh, I didn't file the report. There's no… Didn't your friend tell you?"

"What?"

"I called her because of the post money the next day… Gave it back to her. I didn't…"

"Why?!" Kurt gasps.

"Oh it's just… She didn't tell you? It was nothing really. I felt stupid about arresting you for something so silly. It's funny in retrospect and I just… there are people out there stealing cars and actually assaulting others. It just felt silly."

"But I thought you had to. I thought assaulting – sexually assaulting – a police officer was a public offense." _Why are you fighting this, Kurt?! Do you want to go to court and have a criminal record?!_

Anderson shrugs, half shy "Not if there's no record of it happening."

"Oh… Hmm… Thanks. A lot. Thank you! Really! I appreciate it a lot, and I really am super, super sorry about everything."

The man nods and smiles kindly "Yes, well, we'll call you if there's anything else about _this _one, and… huh, actually… how are you getting home?"

"Oh… walking." Kurt shrugs "Home is just a few blocks away."

"Oh… I… huh… I don't think that's – it's very late, Kurt."

"I thought I was the dark knight…?" Kurt teases, and puts his wallet back in his pocket, readying himself to leave.

Anderson rolls his eyes and turns to his colleague scribbling idly on his desk "I'll be right back, ok?" The other man just nods and he turns back to Kurt, picking up his coat from the back of his chair "Alright, let's go."

"What?!"

"I'll walk you home."

"Oh! I can't – really – it's just a couple of blocks – it's nothing."

"All the more reason. I could use a walk…" Anderson says "Shall we?"

Kurt follows him dumbly and they're already outside – a fresh breeze sweeping through them – when Kurt finally finds his words again "Thank you!" he gasps "But it's not necessary."

"I think you've established that." Anderson smiles and gestures for Kurt to show him the way. Kurt blushes and starts towards their left. They walk in silence for a few minutes before it's broken. "So, Kurt Hummel, wedding planner… have we learnt anything tonight?"

"Huh…"

"That we must always call the authorities for help." He supplied with a teasing smile "It is their job after all. And without a job I don't get paid, and then I'll become homeless and starve away."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Kurt laughs "I didn't mean to make you homeless."

"That lifestyle really isn't my thing…"

"Oh, how can you say that if you've never even tried it?!"

"How do you know I haven't?" Anderson quirks an eyebrow.

"Have you?" Kurt shoots him a disbelieving look. For as humble a job as being a policeman actually is, officer Anderson exudes the kind of class and poise that only a privileged upbringing can give.

"No." he chuckles.

"I thought so."

"Well, aren't we perceptive."

"Not we. You haven't actually deduced anything about me, so…"

"Point taken. I deduce… I deduce… Oh. I deduce we've reached your door." He says, looking actually disappointed as Kurt stops in front of his door.

Kurt smiles warmly and nods "You deduce right."

He returns the smile and sighs, shrugging slightly "Well, then, home safe and sound. I've done my job." He extends a hand, which Kurt accepts at once "Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, officer Anderson, and thank you for… for everything." He sighs, dropping the warm, comfortable hand, but finding those hazel eyes he could die for and staring into them.

"Just doing my job." He shrugs, not averting his eyes from Kurt's - there's a beat of silence, where the energy between them could light up a building – and Anderson still won't look away as he says "We'll call you if there's anything."

"Thanks." He nods and starts walking away, backwards because he's still not quite able to break away from those eyes "Bye."

"Bye."

Kurt continues to walk backwards until his back hits the solid door, and he fishes his keys from his pocket, trying to postpone turning away until the very last minute.

"You're not going to try to unlock that door without looking, are you?" Anderson calls after him, making Kurt flush crimson, but it's dark and they're at least seven feet apart, so maybe he can't see.

"Impossible is nothing." Kurt shrugs, going for nonchalance.

Anderson laughs and says "I wouldn't have pegged you for a Nike kind of guy."

"You'd have been wrong if you had."

There's beat of silence before Anderson chuckles and shakes his head "So are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Going to open that door like that?"

"Oh!" Kurt gasps and finally looks away and turns around, shoving the key in the lock as he looks over his shoulder and calls out "Good night, officer Anderson!"

"Good night, Mr. Hummel." He receives just before he, very reluctantly closes the door.

He sprints up the stairs to his second floor apartment and pushes through the door, ignoring Santana on the couch, watching her soap opera, and Rachel on the dining room table, running lines with herself, and practically gluing his face to the window.

"What're you watching?" Santana asks, not looking away from the TV.

"Truly New York's finest." Kurt sighs as he watches Anderson already on the other side of the street, and his heart summersaults as the man actually looks over his shoulder towards Kurt's door, slowing his steps for a moment.

"The policeman?"

"Yeah…" Kurt sighs coming to plop down on the couch "I act-"

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?!"

-x-

It doesn't actually take that much convincing from the girls, and that should actually scare him. Kurt's pretty much just worried about how humiliated he may come out of this as he walks into the precinct the following afternoon, though.

"Can I help you?" a female officer asks as he looks around.

"Yes, actually. I'm looking for officer Anderson…?"

"Anderson? Blaine Anderson?"

"I guess… He's short-ish, dark hair…? Gel in his hair?" he says and she nods

"That's Blaine, alright." She says, while Kurt realizes it's the first time he's heard the man's first name, and he actually finds it fitting. Gorgeous, classy, yet understated "Well, you missed him. He's on the night shift, so… You'll have to come back after dinner, I guess."

"Oh." He gasps and frowns "I would. But I can't." he bites his lip before holding out the brown bag towards her "Could you just make sure he gets these, then?"

"Oh…?"

"Tell him it's just a small thank you for, huh, last night."

"I'll tell him." She says with a small frown and a smirk.

"Ok, thanks! Have a good day!" he says before nearly thrusting the bag to her and fleeing the station.

Well, at least if rejection happens it won't be to his face.

But it wouldn't, right? There had been chemistry, right? There had been flirting, right?

Kurt took a deep breath, shook his head and took off towards his office for what he was sure would be an all-nighter.

-x-

_N.A.: Ignore my complete ignorance about police procedures, as, much like Kurt, I've never been arrested. Pretend everything's going according to reality. Also, Kurt's views on strippers are not necessarily __**my**__ views on strippers (characters are sometimes allowed to be offensive)._


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine inspects each apple closely, he looks for bad spots or mushy parts, squeezes them gently, before cheerfully throwing each perfect one in the air, catching it and finally stuffing it in the bag. He hums lightly while he does it, even whistles certain verses. The sun outside is shining and the birds are probably singing and the flowers are bright and colorful. He smiles wider to himself as he thinks of delicious, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and then promptly misses the catch. The apple falls like butter right through his fingers and in his haste to chase its fall he drops the whole bag. Apples are rolling in every direction in a desperate run for their lives.

"Shit." He gasps dropping to his knees at once trying to contain the disaster as much as he can. He glances over his shoulders, needing to know how many people witnessed his shameful failure and finds his vision obscured by skintight, black denim clad legs bending down next to him.

"Need a hand, Officer?"

Blaine's head snaps and he finds himself eye to eye with Kurt Hummel. As if he wasn't embarrassed enough. As if he wasn't blushing enough. Shit.

He hangs his head and sighs.

"And you were being so picky about them…" Kurt sighs.

"So you saw that…" Blaine half groans and glances at Kurt, who laughs.

"To be fair I saw you catching a lot of them, too." He says lightly, reaching for an apple before freezing and clearing his throat "Not… not that I was like… spying on you, or… huh… I was… I was just getting some peaches." Kurt is blushing now, probably as much, if not more than Blaine "I was choosing them and I noticed you and… I wasn't… I'm not a creep, I promise."

Blaine presses his lips in a thin line, trying not to smile too wide as the recent memory of receiving a brown paper bag with the best chocolate chip cookies he's ever had comes back to him, "I believe you."

They finish collecting the apples in silence and Blaine sighs as he notices most of them are ruined.

"You could always put them back and choose new ones…" Kurt suggests and Blaine gives him a confused look "Or not… because that would be morally wrong and even possibly illegal…?, and I certainly would never do anything like that, officer." He adds in clear panic, finishing with a defeated sigh. Blaine thinks it's adorable.

"Blaine." He corrects after an almost snort, "My name is Blaine. I'm out of the uniform, so…"

Kurt looks at him for a long moment before cracking a shy smile "Blaine." he nods.

"So I got your cookies…" Blaine starts shyly, unsure of where he wants the conversation to go. Well, he does know where he wants it to go, but he'd also planned it starting differently, so…

"Oh?"

"T-they were absolutely delicious, thank you so much! Totally worth the hours of teasing I endured back at the station… really!" he beams and then adds, "Or at least I think they were from you, because there's only so many fancy, tall, blue eyed brunets I know."

Kurt ducks his head with a shy smile before nodding and saying "Well, they were a thank you for, huh, well, for everything. Especially the other night. It was… it was very nice of you to walk me home after that, and… well, thank you, offi- thank you, Blaine."

"It was my pleasure, Kurt. I… I was- I was actually wondering if… well, I was going to call you to thank you for the cookies. Later today, but, hum… and I was… I was wondering – I was going to ask you… if maybe you wanted to have dinner with me, sometime?"

Kurt's eyes go wide and his jaw slacks a little and Blaine swears he used to be better at this, he used to be able to ask a guy out without breaking into cold sweat. He used to be able to shoot a confident grin their away and keep his complexion in check.

"It would be an early dinner, because my shift starts at nine, unless it was my day off, which would be great and better and I don't even know why I said that about my shift, but… and anyway, I understand if you can't or, or, or don't want to, and you probably already have a boyfriend anywa-"

Kurt suddenly interrupts "I would love that."

"You would?!"

Kurt eyes him with a smile and then chuckles even as his face becomes deep red, "I ripped your shirt open the first time we met, what do you think?"

Blaine laughs before he knows it, and feels his own face burning (scorching actually). Avoiding Kurt's eyes and finding the floor suddenly captivating he shrugs and scratches the back of his neck "I thought maybe by now, without the alcohol, you would've…"

"The lack of alcohol improved things for me, trust me." Kurt mutters and Blaine's eyes fly to his of their own accord.

They gaze at each other for a long, drawn out moment where Blaine swears he feels every hair on his body stand.

"So about that dinner…?" Kurt finally asks, smirk between shy and teasing.

"Oh… huh…" He tries his best not to hyperventilate or burn his own face off as he finally gets it out "Do you… Would you… Are you free now?"

"Now?!"

Stupid Blaine and stupid lack of filter. Of course **not** now. Not when you're dressed in jeans and some basic t-shirt. Not when your hair isn't completely fixed. Not when you don't even have reservations anywhere.

"Yeah," he smiles, trying not to look as panicky as he feels "I… I was just… thinking, we could… could cook dinner together, and… you know – just hang out…? At my place."

"Officer Anderson," Kurt smirks and steps barely an inch closer "are you inviting a known criminal into your own home?"

"Oh" Blaine chuckles nervously and rolls his eyes, confidence coming back to him miraculously when Kurt doesn't look like he's about to turn him down "You know me, I like to live on the edge."

Kurt laughs and Blaine thinks it's a really nice sound and a better sight. He holds up Blaine's apple bag and shrugs happily "We can make apple pie…"

Blaine can't help beaming at the implicit agreement.

"I just need to get a couple more stuff, if you don't mind?" Kurt says gesturing to his half full basket.

"Oh, yeah, sure, me too."

"Alright then! Come on!"

They shop together and Kurt warns him about unhealthy breakfast cereals, while Blaine tells him which pesticide is less toxic – he manages not to ramble, which is a very good thing. There's so little stuttering and so much good flirting that Blaine really thinks he's got a good grip on himself, now. He feels a little bit like he did on Kurt's doorstep the night before. Empowered by the way Kurt smiles and looks at him, like there's nothing he can say that'll make him walk away, like things are so perfectly and easily in tune with them he really shouldn't worry about sounding silly.

"You're a wedding planner, right?" Blaine asks as they finally step outside into the sun, both simultaneously reaching for their sunglasses. Kurt smiles and nods "Do you like it?"

"I... like it… most days." Kurt says with a smirk "Some brides are a little too much – but then again, I can empathize. Big day and all."

Blaine smiles and nods in understanding "How many have you planed?"

"I'm… I'm not sure. I think I've lost count. I did a big one yesterday… I'm taking a couple days off. Let's just say I never thought I'd see the day I get sick of Vogue, but…"

"You did the_ Linden _wedding?" Blaine gasps.

"_You_ know_ them_?"

Blaine gives him a pointed look before he sighs "I read vogue." He says, half-defensively "Besides, even if I didn't, the groom was a cousin of mine. That's a big one. You got quite the career going on, Kurt."

Kurt grins and fails at looking all that nonchalant "It took me a couple of years to get where I am – I started out as an assistant."

"How old are you?" Blaine smirks, frowning slightly.

Kurt answers haughtily "Twenty six. How old are _you_?"

Blaine raises and eyebrow at the teasing tone "Twenty five. You know some people would kill for your career at your age, right?"

"Would you?" Kurt jokes.

"No, I love my job, thanks."

"What about your job do you love, Mr. Officer?"

"Oh, you know… the usual, helping people, fighting crime, enforcing the law, getting my shirt ripped open by cute guys." He doesn't even blush or bite his lip nervously. He just beams and looks at Kurt, waiting for his response.

Kurt shoves at his arm, but doesn't hide his smile.

"I did say cute!" He defends himself with a laugh, and tries to look self-assured and cocky even if it's not exactly easy when he's admitting his crush and this time he can't help his blush.

"I can't believe I ever thought you were stripper." Kurt chuckles.

Blaine's heart falters "Oh? Am I not…"

"No!" Kurt says at once actually stopping their easy stroll "I-No! You are, you_ so_ are… I mean… for me… I think. Oh, dammit." Blaine watches in anticipation as Kurt takes a deep breath and only grimaces for a second before continuing, his cheeks a bright shade of red "I definitely think you're cute and – huh – hot. But you have nothing in common with a stripper… usually they're vulgar and… plastic, and Channing Tatum-ish. You're… completely different."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Blaine says softly, his heart suddenly much, much lighter.

"It _is _a compliment."

"Thank you." He breathes.

Kurt holds his eyes with a long smile before sighing and starting to walk "Ok. So, what about you, how many criminals have you arrested?"

Blaine laughs, following him "Not that many." He says "You wouldn't believe how boring most nights are. I guess that's a good thing, though. It's a quiet neighborhood."

"It really is. That's why I chose it. It's also why I had to invite two friends to live with me. After a while the silence kind of drove me crazy."

Blaine smiles and nods "Yeah, I know. I don't really mind the night shift because I've just learnt to sleep better during the day, when there's the city buzz around me, I guess."

They talk about the city for the next couple of blocks, until Blaine stops in front of a door and announces it as his building. He smiles as he lets Kurt inside, and they take the stairs side-by-side, shoulders brushing slightly. "Please tell me it's not the fifth floor."

Blaine laughs "I have to exercise somehow."

"It is?" Kurt blanches.

"No." he chuckles "Second."

"Oh, you make me so happy." Kurt sighs dramatically, eyes alight with mirth, and it makes Blaine's stomach squirm a little and he's not quite quick enough with a witty comeback. Instead he just ducks his head and feels his cheeks flush.

They reach his door in comfortable silence and he's proud of how little it shows that his hand is shaking as he slips the key in and turns it. Suddenly he's trying to recreate his entire house the last time he saw it, trying to remember what kind of mess he will have to apologize for. Inviting someone over on the spot is definitely a bad idea (even if he can't bring himself to regret it just yet – maybe in about a minute when Kurt's judging him for the mess of books and magazines on his coffee table, or the abandoned tea cups in the sink).

It's been months since he had a man in his house.

Ok. That's a lie.

It's been a year. Since he'd broken up with his ex (the circumstances of which are best left forgotten) and kept his dating life to a bare minimum (which is to say, he went on a few first dates set up by his best friend, to keep him pleased and quiet).

A year later, though, and he's heard his ex was engaged and he was surprised to find he was actually ok with that. Not even miffed in the least. He can honestly say the only feeling he has toward the subject is 'good luck to the poor guy who was marrying him'.

A year later and a pair of blue eyes had made Blaine's world stop for a second and he is much more interested in that.

If there's anything he likes to think he took out of his very failed relationship is that there's no point in insisting in something with someone whose world isn't like your own. It just gets you hurt.

And Kurt's world… Well, Blaine had a good feeling about that.

He holds the door open and watches as Kurt steps inside. He knows his apartment is small (like… really small), but he likes to think he managed to make it somewhat nice. He tries not to feel nervous as Kurt clearly takes in the living room.

"Oh my god, I love how much light it has!" Kurt gasps "How did you manage a second floor apartment with _light_ in this city!"

Blaine laughs and steps inside, closing the door "It's all about the colors…"

"Oh, I know!" Kurt rolls his eyes "I decided to go olive in my apartment and I've come to regret it! Absorbs all the light right up, ugh."

"If you ever need help repainting it, let me know." Blaine offers with a smile and the grin he receives in return is beautiful.

"Thanks! I might just take you up on that…" Kurt teases "Even if I do have two perfectly capable housemates. Wouldn't want to pass up such a perfect excuse to have you over."

Blaine's tongue is a little caught at that, so he just beams and hopes he doesn't look too much like a teenage idiot.

"Anyway!" Kurt sighs with a laugh "Where can I leave these for now?" he asks, meaning his own bags of groceries.

"Do you have anything that needs to go in the fridge?" Blaine asks as he makes his own way into the kitchen.

"No." Kurt calls after him.

"Then just leave them there." Blaine says, dropping his bags on the counter and jogging back to the front door where Kurt's carefully putting his bags down "And I'll give you a grand tour. Which won't be very grand because the place is actually unbelievably small." He adds sheepishly.

Kurt hums next to him and Blaine gestures towards the hallway. "So this is the hallway, which has three doors. Door number one leads to the bathroom." He opens it.

"Huh, it is a bathroom!"

He smiles at Kurt's faux surprise and goes for the next door "Here is some kind of walk-in closet slash pantry slash storage room, which I just use to keep stuff."

"Stuff! You can never have enough stuff." Kurt notes before adding "Actually I do have too much stuff." He sighs and shrugs "What're you gonna do…?"

"Stuff is important." Blaine says in a serious tone "It gives you something to sell on e-bay once you go flat broke."

"Exactly. Or when you're still just a young intern and need that amazing new Marc Jacobs coat, which costs exactly as much as three months' work."

"That coat's gorgeous!" Blaine gasps and Kurt throws his head back in laughter.

"Aren't they all…?"

Blaine nods with a grin and opens the bedroom door "And this is my bedroom."

"Ah…" Kurt says with a smirk, peering inside "Where the magic happens…"

"Hmm…" Blaine blushes, because it's really not… unless Blaine's right hand and a bottle of lube can be considered as such.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt says at once "That was so inappropriate. I don't even… I don't even know why I said that."

"No, it's fine." Blaine manages with an uneasy chuckle "it's hmm… it's… just… I haven't… I… Well, I just… I had a bad break up a year ago and… it took me a while to… hmm… so… not that much magic, I guess."

"How much of a while?" Kurt frowns.

"A year…?"

"Oh." Kurt gasps "I'm…?"

Blaine tries not to dissolve in embarrassment "No pressure…" he jokes half-heartedly.

"Not even a date?"

"Oh, no, I went on dates…" Blaine nods "I just… didn't care much to go past first date, or a second at the most. And I'm not… I don't usually… you know, on the first date, so…" He shrugs and then hides his face in his hands "God, just kill me now, let's pretend I never told you any of this!" he groans "I swear I didn't use to be like this! I was charming and smooth, and… Oh god!"

Kurt's laugh is light and kind and Blaine is surprised to feel gentle fingers prying his hands away "I think you're plenty charming." Kurt giggles and then adds "Hey, now, have I ever told you about why I was drunk the night we first met?"

"No."

"That was a bachelorette's party for my ex-boyfriend's fiancée. As in two e's. As in woman." Kurt shrugs "My ex was so scarred from me he turned to women!"

Blaine laughs "I'm sure it wasn't like that!"

Kurt rolls his eyes "Oh, I know. He told me from the start he was bi… But it still kept me up at night when I found out. And you know how I found out? They hired me to plan the wedding!"

"Savages."

"I know, right? Just rub it in my face, will you?" Kurt gasps, but then grins again "But it's not even like I cared for the guy – I broke up with him – it was just a matter of wounded pride, I guess." And then, with a sigh, he adds "And I suppose I still would be if it wasn't a woman…"

Blaine smiles at that, and eyes him for a second before he nods and shrugs "My ex is engaged, too. I pity the poor guy."

"That's the spirit!"

They laugh and Blaine realizes they probably shouldn't just be standing in the middle of corridor "Do you want something to drink?" he says, gesturing back to the kitchen "A beer…?"

"Yes, please!" Kurt grins and follows Blaine to the kitchen, where he opens the fridge, taking out two fresh beers, uncapping them and handing one out to Kurt, who holds it up, tilts it towards Blaine and grins "To being well over our engaged exes!"

With a chuckle Blaine clinks their bottles together and takes a long sip.

"So, dinner!" Kurt says before Blaine's even finished swallowing "We should make the apple pie first so it can cool while make dinner."

He swallows and blinks "Sure!"

"Do you want to learn my super delicious recipe?" Blaine nods and hands Kurt an apron, sheepishly keeping the ridiculous one Wes gave him once for himself. It had a vintage naked woman printed onto it. Kurt eyes it as Blaine ties it around his waist, not quite able to keep his amusement inside. "Nice." Kurt says finally and Blaine just shrugs.

"It was a gift." He says as if it explained everything. He feels like it does, anyway. He starts opening his cupboards and taking out ingredients and bowls "So, Kurt Hummel, wedding event planner extraordinaire. Where are you from?"

"Ohio."

"Oh!" Blaine gasps "Funny! Me too!"

-x-

"Oh my god! This is delicious!" Kurt moans, just barely after swallowing. It makes Blaine laugh and blush slightly at how nice that moan sounded.

"Yes, thank you. Let's see if your pie will hold up to it."

"Oh, it will." Kurt says as if Blaine had just wondered if rain is wet.

"Cocky much?"

Kurt just gives him a one shouldered-shrug and takes another bite, eyes teasing and bright. Blaine can't decide between keeping their gazes locked or watching the fork gracefully slip between his lips. So he clears his throat and asks "So, why wedding planner?"

He watches the other man quirk an eyebrow at the question and chew carefully as he thinks. Finally he swallows and says "Well… technically I'm an event planner, I don't do just weddings. But I do specialize in weddings, because bar mitzvahs just annoy the hell out of me, because, well, teenagers. And office parties, and corporate conventions aren't… quite as exciting." He rolls his eyes "But,… I… I like planning weddings. It's fun. It's a lot of work, too, and it's just… one of those jobs where you get to see it all come together perfectly and have someone thank you for making their dreams come true! And well… I'm good at it. When I was a sophomore I planned my dad's second wedding and… at the time I wasn't particularly happy, because of school and stuff, but watching it happen like that, it was just… I had somehow created that one day – one perfect day, where everybody was happy and celebrating something worthwhile."

"That's nice."

"It was." Kurt smiles sweetly "I loved that wedding, and I loved the look on my dad's face when he saw Carole coming up in that dress… And to this day I haven't gotten sick of it once – of getting to see their faces… of… giving people that one day where they just get to be in love and not worry about anything else – even if anyone can see that it'll end in divorce in a couple of months, but still – for that one day, nothing else matters, and you live in the moment."

"I always did love weddings…" Blaine sighs.

"Mmm, me too. I'm glad I have this... Originally I came to new york to be a Broadway star."

"Oh?" Blaine frowns "What happened?"

"I didn't get into NYADA, like my best friend, and I got an internship at . Before I knew it I was setting up runway shows and photo shoots, and… then I just… I liked it, but I knew it wasn't exactly what I wanted – and being that deeply immersed in the fashion world kind of… got me sick of it – don't get me wrong, I still love Vogue, I have a subscription, but… I don't think I can handle that much… bitchiness on a daily basis and keep my sanity. A colleague of mine got engaged, she asked me for help, I ended up planning the whole thing… So I started thinking and I realized what I was missing was something that made it meaningful again, and… after everything the one thing I still had faith in was love, so… I thought, why not? I had all the right connections already, and I knew I had the talent… I got an internship with one of the big names and after that I just kept walking up the ladder."

"Really?! That's so sweet!" Blaine gasps, ever the romantic.

"If I didn't deal with crazy-in-love people every day, I don't know if I'd still believe it in it, but… thank god I do." Kurt sighs, looking wistful and bright eyed "God knows sixteen-year-old me would be disappointed if I came to be jaded and bitter because of a few bad break ups."

Blaine laughs and tries not to read too much into the butterflies settling into his stomach, because Kurt does believe in love – Kurt does want love. Maybe they_ could _try to find it together.

"What about you, Mr. Officer? What brought you to the blue uniform?"

Blaine takes a bite and shrugs "Well…" he says after smiling "Helping people and all that…"

"Yes, but you could be a doctor for that, or a store clerk."

"Right." Blaine chuckles "Right… well… huh, I'm afraid it's rather cliché."

"Indulge me." Kurt says, putting down his fork and leaning over the table, giving Blaine his undivided attention.

"Ok…" he sighs and smiles, feeling his stomach clench a little but pressing on anyway, "I guess… I guess once upon a time in the middle of Ohio there was a fourteen year old Blaine who was… naïve about things and had the bright idea to take another boy to his school homecoming dance."

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed." He smiles sadly "We were beat up pretty badly."

"Oh my god!"

"But, hmm, there was a police officer that heard the commotion and stopped the whole thing in time for things not to go beyond a couple of broken ribs and, huh, my wrist… And then he stayed with us until the ambulance got there, and because my parents couldn't get there as soon, he rode with me to the hospital… he was really nice. Visited me sometimes in the hospital too, made sure I knew it wasn't my fault and… well, I just, he was really nice and comforting. We remained sort of friends after that, and a couple of months later I found out his son had been beaten, too, before, but… he – he hadn't made it. So. I just… I wanted to be him for other kids. I wanted to make sure it never happened again. I didn't want to prosecute those who did it, I didn't want to heal the wounds… I wanted to make sure it never happened in the first place. And if it did, I wanted to be the first one there."

"Oh, Blaine." Kurt sighs, reaching out to take Blaine's hand in his and squeezes it "That's… beautiful."

"Thank you." Blaine smiles "It's not… it wasn't easy. My parents were really set on me going into the family business."

"Which is?"

"Lawyer."

"Oh…" He nods and then perks up at once "Wait! When you said you're Tom's cousin… You're one of_ those_ Andersons?!"

Blaine smiles bitterly and then cringes with a chuckle and nods "Mom and daddy dearest prefer to pretend otherwise, but yes." He sighs "When I refused to go to law school and joined the academy instead they cut me off. We're on speaking terms again, now, and we even have monthly dinners, but… you know." He shrugs and lets the implication sit on tis own, before he sighs and presses on, "And it's not even like I'd hate it, - law school, I mean - I don't think I would. I could make something out of it, I guess. Maybe go into public office, or work pro-bono. I don't know. But I'd never want to do the kind of practice my dad has, so they'd be mad at me anyway, and since it wasn't _exactly _what I wanted. I figured, if I was going to loose my family over it, might as well be for what I really, absolutely, definitely wanted. So I just… worked my way through the academy and here I am now."

"That's amazing." Kurt breathes and then startles "I mean, I'm really sorry about your parents, but… you know… you're… you're pretty amazing."

Blaine just feels himself blushing beyond salvation and does his best to hold Kurt's gaze and smile back without catching fire. The other man's smile grows and when he laces their fingers together and squeezes Blaine notices they're still holding hands.

"Dessert?" Kurt asks quietly after a long moment's silence.

"Yeah." Blaine croaks out and clears his throat "Yes."

He watches as swift, sure hands pick up the mostly empty plates and follows Kurt's retreating figure to the kitchen with his eyes. He makes use of the moment alone to take a deep breath and center himself. Contrary to what each individual moment might _feel_ like, he forces his brain to recognize it's actually going really well. Kurt is terrific and seems to be enjoying himself just as much as Blaine. So he's got on a wide smile as Kurt returns, pie and knife in hand.

They eat dessert in silence, trading shy, flirtatious smiles. Blaine even notices the way Kurt's eyes seem to follow Blaine's tongue as he licks his lips and the thought makes him shiver with thrill.

The apple pie is indeed absolutely heavenly, and if Blaine didn't know any better he would suspect Kurt of lacing it with something highly aphrodisiac, because watching the other man wrap his lips around his fork is mind-numbing, to say the least. But then again, maybe Kurt actually is that much gorgeous, no mind-altering substances required.

"What time does your shift start?" Kurt asks softly as he puts down his empty plate.

"Nine, why?"

"Maybe I should go…" he answers with a sort of a sad smile.

"Oh?" Blaine frowns because, no, Kurt shouldn't ever go, and he looks at his watch and "Oh!"

"Yeah…" Kurt chuckles.

"I'm so sorry! I was… I'm… I don't mean to throw you out or anything."

"Please, Blaine, as if I'd ever think that. You've been such a gracious host." He beams and reaches to lay a hand on Blaine's arm "I loved this, I really did…"

"So… again?" Blaine grimaces at his own lame question.

"Do you have a day off?"

"Saturday." He nods.

Kurt beams for a moment but then he holds his breath, smile disappearing and frowning instead "I don't… I don't want it to sound like I just want your hard labor, or anything, but I wasn't joking about those walls, and I was considering re-doing them this weekend and-"

"I'd love to."

"You would?!"

"Yeah!" he laughs, standing up "It sounds like fun, Kurt."

"Alright, but I'll take you out to dinner afterwards."

Blaine could swear his heart was flying high as a kite, "That's really n-"

"I want to. Rachel and Santana will probably be there making our lives hell, so I'm not going to rely on their kindness for alone time with you." He says, finishing shyly and averting his eyes to the floor, making Blaine want to duck down and surprise kiss him. He doesn't, though, he controls himself. "I'll make reservations somewhere nice. Make sure you bring a change of clothes." He adds, clearly attempting at sounding self-assured "Give me your number so I can text you further details."

"Alright." Blaine smiles and resists yet another urge, this time to reach over and hug him "It'll be great to meet them, anyway." He says as he hands Kurt his phone.

Kurt gives him a sort of dry laugh before adding "Speaking of the girls, though," he says while typing his number into Blaine's phone "would you mind if I took some pie for them. They'd kill me if I didn't."

"Oh, no! Not at all" Blaine springs to his feet and immediately gets a container out of the kitchen cabinet and returns to the living room to cut more than half the pie into it.

"It doesn't have to be that much!" Kurt gasps.

"Nonsense. I can't very much protect the city if I'm obese, can I?" Blaine winks, and he closes the container handing it over.

Kurt huffs a laugh, accepting it "Oh, yes, you're definitely a piece of pie away from morbid obesity." He teases, as he hands Blaine his phone back and pockets his own again. Blaine accepts the phone, pats his stomach and shrugs. Kurt gives him another smile before sighing, "I should leave you to get ready."

Blaine cringes and nods "You should…" and then, just because things have gone so well he thinks he might get away with it he adds, smirking "Or you could always watch – I could try to put on a good show..."

Kurt turns a deep shade of red and pushes at Blaine's shoulder, sending the laughing man back a couple of steps "Not fair! You said we could forget that!"

Blaine just laughs some more "Come on, I'll walk you out."

-x-

From Blaine: being in the night shift is sometimes both frustrating and funny at the same time. It makes me so confused. (Hi, how are you?)

From Kurt: Hi! Is this a thing we can do now? Text each other? I like it. Tell me more about your confusion.

From Blaine: (I kind of felt like talking to you, so…) it's the third call we've got from an old lady, just this week. And she keeps asking us to intervene with her neighbor's young daughter, who (gasp!) is going on dates with boys and coming home at ungodly hours. She is clearly "lost", she says, and her parents aren't even bothered in the least.

From Kurt: How old is the girl?

From Blaine: 20

From Blaine: The first time she called I did go there, just to make sure no one was coercing anyone into anything.

From Kurt: Oh, what a floozy!

From Blaine: I think one of these days the old lady is just going to come into the station and drag me out there my ear.

From Kurt: Oh, no! I like your ear! Tell her not to hurt it! And tell her to mind her own business, anyway.

From Blaine: At this point I know her voice by heart. I just put the phone down and let her talk while I go about my business.

From Kurt: Oh, how professional of you!

From Blaine: I'm very professional, thank you very much!

From Kurt: Oh, I know! I was there to see it firsthand. Twice.

From Blaine: Oh yes. Do try to avoid witnessing more of that, unless you're just stopping to say hello – which I would never mind. I meant it the other night, Kurt, don't go round breaking fights in the middle of the night. Call 911, or me, or whatever.

From Kurt: But I told you I'm on a mission to rid this city of its bullies.

From Blaine: I'm serious! (mostly) please promise me you won't do it again! Or I'll worry about you.

From Blaine: And also, avoid further sexual advances on unsuspecting victims.

From Kurt: That was sweet. And then it was mean.

From Kurt: Would you be jealous if I ripped open someone else's shirt, then?

From Blaine: Obviously. (also, it's illegal unless there's consent, silly, and then I'd have to arrest you again)

From Kurt: Ok, fine, I promise I won't go around ripping open people's shirt anymore!

From Blaine: Unless there's consent ;)

From Kurt: Are you saying I have your consent?

From Blaine: Ugh. The old lady is screaming at me now! What have I done to deserve this? ( ;) )

From Kurt: Oh no! Poor you. Are you going to be cranky in the morning and in need of the restorative powers of a good cup of coffee?

From Kurt: (I kind of want to see you again before Saturday)

From Blaine: I don't drink coffee when I leave the station because that's when I sleep, but tea is just as comforting.

From Blaine: (So yes. I want that, too.)

From Kurt: Do you think if you told the old lady you were going on a coffee date with me tomorrow morning she'd leave you alone?

From Blaine: Worth a shot.

From Blaine: No. She wouldn't. In fact, now she wants to save *me*

From Kurt: Tell her she needn't worry, I can save you, so she can focus her precious time on the floozy neighbor! I really don't mind it and she already has so much on her plate.

-x-

"I swear to god, if any of you does anything embarrassing…!" Blaine can hear Kurt's voice on the other side of the closed door. There are cackles of high pitched laughter that fade just slightly before the door is swung open and Kurt is standing there in a black wife-beater and jean shorts "Hi!"

Blaine ignores how thick and dry his tongue has become and smiles "Hello, there!" he extends the six pack of cold beers he's bought on his way here.

"Oh!" A tall, drop-dead-gorgeous latina takes the pack from his hands before Kurt can even register they're there "He came bearing gifts! Alcoholic gifts! You can keep him, Kurt."

Another brunette, much shorter than the first one, swoops in and loops her arm through Blaine "Come inside, Blaine. I'm Rachel, and that's Santana. We're absolutely thrilled you've agreed to join us today. And I must also thank you for the delicious pie that you let Kurt bring for us, even if I only got to eat half a piece." At this she directs a glare towards the Santana girl, who smiles, fake sweet, and shrugs. Rachel turns back to Blaine completely indifferent to Santana "Tell me, Blaine, do you sing?"

"Huh, a little…?" he offers. It's more than a little, but before he knows what he's dealing with, he'll be damned if he admits to anything.

"Wonderful!" Rachel glows with glee "I say showtunes!"

"I say no." Santana says.

"I say Blaine's the guest, so he chooses." Kurt finally cuts in, stepping over and gently prying Rachel's hands away from Blaine's arm.

"Choose what?"

"What music we shall be listening to while we paint." Kurt says, going over to his computer, hooked up to speakers.

"Oh god…" he gasps "You're putting me on the spot. What if I choose something you hate?"

"Not going to happen unless you choose Linkin Park."

Blaine cringes at the mere mention, remembering the amount of times he'd had to put up with Numb when he was like eleven or whatever. But the idea of youth does light inspiration in him "Alright, what are your thoughts on nostalgia?" he smiles, already going for Kurt's laptop and opening YouTube, searching for _best songs of 2000's._

As soon as the opening chords to Beyoncé's Crazy In Love start everyone is gasping and laughing and Blaine revels in the approving nod he receives from Kurt.

"Ok," Kurt grins "Now, paint, brushes and rolls are over here. Pick one up, and let's get started!"

Kurt and Blaine seem to be doing seventy five per cent of the work, though, as Rachel and Santana are much too worried singing and dancing. Blaine finds it incredibly easy to be with the three of them – his laughter comes naturally while he watches both of the girls dancing to Nicki Minaj, and then flat out heaves when Kurt schools all of them with how to dance the single ladies routine. Finally, it's everyone's turn to laugh at him, when Teenage Dream starts and he gasps and let's out an excited "I sung this song in my high school choir club!" and positions himself right in the middle of the living room, singing and dancing out the song in all it's side-stepping and twirling warbler-like glory, somehow still remembering his old high school solo choreography to its very last detail. He tries not to sing it too much towards Kurt, unsure of how serious things are that serenading him wouldn't be over the top, but the first chorus he's all but forgotten about that, unable to take his eyes off Kurt, who is grinning and hiding his laughter behind his hand.

Blaine can feel himself beaming, even as he sings, words stretching his smile wider and brighter, and for a split second he does feel like he's sixteen again, meeting the cutest guy ever seen and believing that you can really fall that deep and that fast. Forgetting all of the cautionary tales he's come to believe about love, forgetting all about the times when it doesn't work out, and about how much they hurt afterwards. So he forgets. And right now he's sixteen again, and he's met the cutest guy ever and there's nothing but hope for the future in his heart and in his body. Nothing but stolen, giggling kisses, cherished hand holding, and blushing, sweet candor.

He finishes with a chuckle, and tries to take his eyes away from Kurt's, because he can feel the girls staring at them, laughing and cooing. As reality crashes back to him, he feels his cheeks burning and hurting from smiling so wide and so much.

The girls break out into applause and he's thankful for the distraction as he bows "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here Monday through Friday, tips are very much welcome."

He goes back to painting the wall as Justin Timberlake takes over, and he looks to his side to find Kurt picking his brush back up as well, biting his lip and smiling. Yes, he definitely feels a little bit sixteen again.

They both pretend not to notice when, ten minutes later, the girls disappear into Rachel's bedroom on the pretense of Santana showing her how to open a stuck drawer.

"I still haven't figured out if they don't make out every once in a while." Kurt says after a long stretch of amiable silence.

Blaine chokes on nothing before he turns to find Kurt idly painting the wall, smiling to himself "Excuse me?"

"Santana would never admit to being attracted to Rachel, and Rachel is very, incredibly straight, but the fact remains that sometimes they just disappear into each other's room for a few hours…" he trails off with a sigh "Of course they could just be having one of their lady chats…"

Blaine smiles "Probably that."

"Probably." Kurt agrees "But it would still be funnier if they were making out."

"You can also burst through the door and find out."

"Nahh. I'd be scarred for life if they were up to anything. And anyway, Rachel is a screamer, so if they really were doing the nasty I would know." He chuckles to himself "I just get bored and make up crazy theories somehow."

"How do you get bored, though? I've never met anyone more intense than those two."

"Whenever they're not around." Kurt shrugs "This place is actually mine, and I used to live here alone before I decided it was unbearable and got them to move in with me. We'd been roommates before when neither of us could afford anything more than a really crappy loft in Bushwick." Blaine sees the fondness in Kurt's face as he reminisces.

"I think I like them." He says softly.

"I'm glad." Kurt shuffles a little closer.

Oh what the hell! "I think I like _you_." Blaine murmurs, stepping even closer, an inch between them.

"I'm gladder."

"That word sounds terrible…!" Blaine teases, his voice barely above a whisper, as he feels the tip of his shoe touching Kurt's.

"There are bigger and better things on my mind, right now, so you'll excuse me if my words aren't quite up to par." Kurt smirks.

"Yeah, like what?" Blaine breathes, stretching his neck.

Kurt's leaning in and, they're intoxicatingly close when a loud squeal from behind Rachel's door breaks through the silence. "Shit! Rachel!" a hiss follows.

Kurt hangs his head with a sigh, before he straightens himself and in a single fluid movement, dips his brush in the paint and strides over the door, pulling it open and swiping the brush across the girls faces and bodies.

They gasp and scream, and while Rachel is cowering, Santana has ducked beneath Kurt's arm and grabbed her forgotten brush, dipped in the can too and left a great big swipe over Kurt's back. He arches and gasps and moves to fight her.

In a split second, though, she grabs Blaine around his neck, and holds her brush an inch away from his throat "Don't even move!" she squints.

Blaine's never been in quite such a silly position, and he bursts out laughing. "You do know you're holding a police officer hostage, right?"

"So?" Santana quirks her eyebrow.

"So…" In a swift succession of movements Blaine has her on the floor, her own brush pointed at her nose "it's a bad idea." He smirks, a single drop of paint falling on they very tip of her nose, for effect. She's silent for so long that Blaine feels his smile dropping slightly "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She squints slightly at him for a few moments before she finally says "I have respect for you."

Relief floods his body and he feels himself laughing as he gets up and off her, holding out a hand to help her up. Rachel and Kurt are clutching each other as they cackle. "I can still kick any of your asses!" she says pointing to the two of them.

"Debatable." Kurt says simply "And come on girls, this wall's not going to paint itself, and there's only one coat left."

It's only another half an hour before the wall is a lovely shade of Alice Blue, and between the four of them there's still a respectable amount of skin not covered in paint.

Rachel and Santana fall dramatically on top of the plastic covered couch "I call dibs on the first shower." Rachel moans "But not until I can move my arms again.

Blaine watches carefully as Kurt bends over to start pulling the tape covering the wooden footer. He heads over to the other corner and starts pulling it out as well. Kurt grins when they meet in the middle and scramble over who gets to pull off the last piece. Blaine finally wins, his fingers digging their way beneath Kurt's and ripping it away. He giggles in victory and Kurt scoffs and makes to pull away, but in a split second decision he would never be able to explain again in his life, Blaine grabs his hands and pulls him back, crashing their lips together.

Once the initial surprise wears off, the kiss turns soft, tentative, endearing, and everything else that a first kiss can ever be. Blaine can feel Kurt's hand disentangling from his own, and cupping Blaine's cheek, fingers splaying and pulling him closer, and making Blaine loose the little bit of control he still had and breathe out through his nose as he surges forward, hand flying to grab Kurt's waist. Kurt's hand leaves his cheek as it flies across until his arm is looped around Blaine's neck, and Blaine's straddling Kurt's lap.

It's the sound of whistling and catcalling that finally breaks them apart, and they do so with an obscene noise of wet lips parting.

They have a hard time ignoring the girls, but they manage as they look at each other, locking their eyes together and smiling so bright and wide that they can see their eyes crinkling and becoming little more than slits. Without warning, mid-laugh, Kurt surges in again to plant another, more forceful kiss on Blaine's mouth. The girls cheer louder still, and Blaine can feel Kurt's hand leaving the back of his neck, so he imagines he's waving them off. Or flipping them off. The thought makes him laugh, and he pulls away to tuck his head against the crook of Kurt's neck, loving the way it feels to have Kurt's arms wrapped around his shoulders as they shake with laughter.

"I'm going to take a shower!" Rachel announces and Blaine looks up to see her skipping off the couch "A cold shower, thank you very much." She adds, teasingly.

Santana moves to her own bedroom "Like I said." She says, turning back to the two of them as her hand is already on the knob "I have respect for you."

Blaine tries not to blush too much at the way she's smirking at him, and barely even notices when Kurt's lips are on his again, fingers burying in his hair. He's quick to put Santana well away from his thoughts, and instead loops an arm around Kurt's waist and pulls him close. "We should never stop doing this." Kurt murmurs against Blaine's lips making him smile and kiss back with enthusiasm.

"There's an idea."

"Another one is we move this party to the couch, cuz my knees are killing me."

Blaine laughs, but springs to his feet, pulling Kurt along with him and they giggle as they stumble their way to the couch. Kurt fumbles around until he finds the remote control and clicks the TV on, volume_ high_.

"You're full of ideas, you are."

Kurt just nods and grins before he bends down and slow kisses Blaine, deep and hot.

"I like you, Kurt." Blaine gasps as he pulls back, shuffling until he's sitting, his legs crossed and facing Kurt "I really do."

"I like you a lot, too." Kurt smiles back, reaching out to join their hands.

"And I know we're not… serious or anything, yet… but, just in the spirit of full disclosure… I'm looking for that. I want a relationship. I'm not a… casual thing kind of guy." He ducks his head, but Kurt catches his chin and makes him look back up.

"If I wanted something meaningless and quick I would've gone for the actual stripper." He says, and Blaine bursts out laughing, not faltering for a second as Kurt tackles him against the arm of couch and covers his laughter with his mouth, teeth clacking and tongues tangling.

Blaine could swear he really was sixteen again as he throws his arms around Kurt's neck and pulls him close, turning their kiss into an embrace.

"You do know that strippers are real people with real feelings, don't you?" Blaine points out, still chuckling.

"Mmm, but then I wouldn't be able to say half the jokes I do." Kurt shrugs and kisses him again "But yes. In the spirit of fairness, I know strippers are real people with real feelings who are only trying to earn honest money, maybe even for more than honorable reasons. I had a friend in high school that was a stripper so he could feed his family. I have respect for him, and anyone else for that matter. However, I also feel that my jokes are important, and in this house we have a rule that each of us has three offensive jokes as week."

Blaine gives him an amused frown and chuckles a bit, "What happens if you say more than three?"

"Some people have the swear jar, we have the offensive jar." Kurt shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world, "At he end of the month we choose a charity and donate the money."

"Oh my god." Blaine gasps, laughing.

"You put the three of us living together in a house, trust me, that's a necessity."

"Who puts in the most?"

"Santana, easily."

"So predictable." Blaine hums.

"I put in the least!" Kurt announces proudly, and Blaine can't help kissing the smirk of his face.

Neither of them reminds the other that they were supposed to go out to dinner that night. Instead, they stay in with the girls and watch a marathon of America's Next Top Model. With Kurt's back pressed against his chest, and his arms tight around him, Blaine can't remember the last time he's been this comfortable or content.


	3. Chapter 3

TRIGGER WARNIGN FOR THIS CHAP: mentions of rape. I'll put a warning before that part so you cans skip it if you want.

Also, a little bit a of angsty moments.

x-x-x

Blaine leaves the station squinting against the bright sun and Kurt smiles fondly at how exhausted he looks. From what he tells Kurt, Blaine deals with too much paperwork and not enough human contact. Hopefully, he'll be moved to a more normal shift soon.

"Oh, won't anybody save me! Please! Oh, please, officer!" Kurt calls, jogging to catch up with him, and immediately loops his arm through Blaine's with a bright smile.

Blaine smiles through his exhaustion – it's still somehow bright and honest. It always is; that's Kurt's favorite part about surprising him outside of work, the wide smile he gets in return. They've developed a system over the last weeks. Between Kurt's weddings and Blaine's night shift, their time together is usually spent at a coffee house, after Blaine's shift, talking for a couple of hours sometimes, or a couple of minutes when Blaine is just too tired to stay more – like today, from the looks of it.

"What do you need saving from?" Blaine asks, voice soft as leans over to kiss Kurt's cheek.

"Missing you." he says without preamble, and tries not to be embarrassed about the words. He catches Blaine's little gasp.

"Oh." Blaine blushes slightly and ducks his head "I'm sorry we haven't… My schedule is crazy, and I've been meaning to ask to get off the night shift, but I'm just some rookie, fresh out of the academy, and anyway, Alana's a single mother, and Jason is-"

"Blaine, it's ok. It's not your fault." Kurt lets his hand slide down Blaine's arm to entwine their fingers "I just… really wanted to make plans for a _third_ official date. Texting you is my favorite thing, and stealing you away for coffee every other day is lovely, but I was hoping to spend an evening with you… I was hoping we could… not worry about time, or that you could actually keep your eyes open and not fall asleep and -"

"That was _once_! And it was a very long shift, there was a robbery-"

"Blaine!" Kurt's laughs, "I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying. I want to be with you – I want quality time with you… soon?"

"I have a day off on Friday." Blaine offers, squeezing Kurt's hand "We could go out, if you wanted. There's an exhibit at the-"

"Oh…" Kurt's smile falls a little "I'm working…"

"I could try to change it!" Blaine offers at once as they step into their usual cozy, understated coffee shop.

"Well… I… oh. I don't want to freak you out or anything, but… I do have a wedding on Friday… but… if you wanted maybe you could… come with me? As my date?"

"Won't you be working?" Blaine frowns slightly.

"I will, but most of the work is beforehand, anyway… I'll just be supervising. And I guess I need to start giving my intern some responsibilities at some point. But, anyway, it's just a random thought, you don't have to come. I just thought…"

"I'd love to see your work, Kurt." Blaine says before turning towards the barista "A grande non-fat mocha and a chamomile tea, please."

"You would?" Kurt sighs, seeming actually surprised to hear that.

"Of course! Your job is to create beautiful days to celebrate love. How would I not want to see that?" He says, holding out the money before he reaches up for a quick, discreet kiss.

Kurt grins, clearly holding back, but still shuffling a little closer. He gingerly reaches out to lace their fingers together "Great!" he says, "It's a date."

"A third date!"

"A third official date, because we've had plenty of coffee dates already and we've been seeing each other for like… three weeks?" Kurt considers.

"True, true." He smiles "Still, I can't wait!"

"Really?"

"Really." Blaine rolls his eyes and smiles. Kurt rolls his back, but grins too and Blaine fights the urge to kiss him again – he can't, he's in uniform.

"Your drinks, sir." The barista's voice interrupts the staring contest and he chuckles to himself as he takes the cups and hands one to Kurt.

"Alright, I need to go and crash on my bed because I am so, so, so monumentally tired." Blaine sighs with a regretful smile "But this was amazing, and I can't wait till Friday when I can witness your magical work for myself."

"Yes, and I have a meeting in twenty minutes, too." Kurt nods, holding the door open for Blaine "Call me when you wake up."

"I will." Blaine smiles offering his cheek for Kurt to kiss, before he hurries out the door.

Neither one notices the barista sighing after them and wishing life would stop shoving other people's adorableness in her face.

-x-

"I am in awe." Blaine pulls back from where he'd been resting his head on Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt smiles and rolls his eyes trying to look as f those words aren't anything close to a hot chocolate on a cold winter night "I don't see any reason for surprise. What did you expect from someone as spectacular as me?"

"I'm sorry, you're absolutely right." Blaine's beautiful, pure laughter is silenced by Kurt's lips.

After a few slow, simple kisses, Blaine returns his temple to Kurt's shoulder and they resume their lazy dancing on the edge of the room.

Some guests have started to leave, and the band has been replaced with a carefully selected playlist of slow songs. The bride and the groom are still dancing in the middle of the dance floor, where they've been for most of the night completely absorbed in each other, and while Kurt knows he and Blaine have only been dating for barely a month he can't help wishing that will be them one day. Blaine's arms around him feel like the safest blanket he's ever had. The softness of Blaine's cheek against his neck feels soothing. And the way Blaine keeps kissing the inside of his wrist, making him shiver and smiling discreetly to himself, like Kurt doesn't see it, like Kurt doesn't know Blaine's filing that information for a time where shivers and small gasps will be nothing but a starting point, excites him with a thousand other possibilities.

"I can't wait to get out of here…" he murmurs right next to Blaine's hear and thrills at the feel of Blaine's very own shiver.

"Yeah?"

Kurt kisses him again "Like you don't know what you're doing, Mr. I'm on a mission to find all of Kurt's weak spots."

Blaine just chuckles, looking stupidly happy about himself.

"May I remind you that I have an early start tomorrow…" Kurt points out, actually sorry for it.

Blaine just smiles and leans into him "I can be quick…"

"You're not acting like you want to be quick."

"Well, I don't_ want_ to be quick, but I _can_."

Kurt just smiles "Soon enough…"

They dance in silence for a while longer, until the bride and the groom interrupt them, looking a little tipsy and a lot excited. They shower Kurt with words of thanks and hugs and promises for glowing recommendations and future jobs, and Kurt asks them if they'd like to leave for their honeymoon yet, so they beam and nod frantically. He just laughs and signals towards his assistant on the other end of the hall.

Twenty minutes later, as the whole party is huddled up around the driveway where a limo is swiftly pulling away, Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, hooks his chin over his shoulder and says "I see what you mean…"

"About what?"

"About getting to watch this, and believing in love." He squeezes a little tighter "If I got to witness this as often as you do, I think I'd go around the streets dressed in a cupid costume and preaching about the wonders of love."

Kurt laughs and presses back against Blaine.

"As it is, I'm just a hopeless romantic."

He twists in Blaine's embrace and kisses him quickly "I wouldn't say hopeless." He smiles "That would suggests that there's something wrong about it."

Blaine grins "You don't think it's silly?"

"Not at all…" Kurt shakes his head and kisses Blaine's cheek.

"I like that."

"What?"

"That we have the same world." Blaine explains with a shrug.

"What world is that?"

Blaine smiles and sighs, "I don't know… I can't explain it properly… but… With everyone else I've always felt like I was… trying to convince them of something. But with you… I just… I know you get it." he clears his throat and cups Kurt's cheek in his hand, smiles and just kisses him again "So, is it over now?"

Kurt smiles, knowing that Blaine is leaving a lot of it unsaid, but also knowing that when the time comes he will say it without reserve, and pulls him back inside. "Almost. Could you sit here and wait a bit?" He says, "I'll be back in ten and then we'll go."

He's quick to delegate and make sure Jessica is well aware of what needs to be done, and he promises to fire her if anything goes wrong – gives her a quick hug and then tells her nothing _will_ go wrong because she can do this – and practically runs back to Blaine.

"Now it's over..." Kurt says, "Listen, I was wondering… I know we didn't… make any specific plans for after… but do you want to come over?"

"Your place?"

"Yeah…"

"Isn't it late? I thought you had an early start and all that,… but I guess I could catch a cab home, later, but…" Blaine frowns, smiling slightly and playfully nudging Kurt with his foot, and Kurt wants to groan because he's half sure that Blaine's doing it on purpose so that he'll have to say everything.

"Blaine. You could spend the night. I was hoping you would. Third date and all…"

Blaine smiles a little, confirming Kurt's suspicions "But won't the girls be there?"

"We have doors, you know?" Kurt rolls his eyes "I'd suggest your place, but it's just that I'm tired and I need a shower before bed, and –"

"Ok." Blaine interrupts with a laugh, getting up from the chair and pressing a strong kiss on Kurt "I'd love to."

That night they nervously join under the hot stream of water, in Kurt's shower, and it is the first time they're together like that, despite the steamy make-outs on Kurt's couch the two time they've managed to get it to themselves without the girls bothering them too much – despite that one rushed handjob against Blaine's barely closed front door, just after coffee and right before Kurt had to leave for a meeting.

It's the first time that they see each other completely naked and so openly. The first time that they wrap hands around each other and take their time in bringing themselves over the edge. The first time they get to do it and revel in it.

Even as they lay on the bed, completely spent after their long day and their orgasms, it takes time to fall asleep, too enamored by the idea of sharing a bed, and sleeping in each other's arms.

"I'm glad you're in my life, Blaine." Kurt whispers, when Blaine's breathing starts becoming deeper and longer.

"Mmme too." He mumbles, squeezing him closer.

"Are we exclusive?"

"Hm-m." Blaine nods against Kurt's chest.

"Are we boyfriends?"

"Hm-mm."

"Good…!"

"Great…" Blaine purrs and presses a lazy kiss to Kurt's skin.

"G'night."

"Night."

**-x- (tw: rape)**

"I picked up your tea on my way here!" Kurt announces just as Blaine steps out of the station. He looks exhausted, but mostly it's the lack of brightness in his smile as he leans over to kiss Kurt's cheek and accept his tea that worries Kurt "Something wrong? Should I not have?"

Blaine gives him another weak smile and shakes his head "No. That was really sweet of you, thanks."

"What's wrong?"

"Can we go to your place, or something? I just feel really…" he sighs "shitty, and I guess I could use a lie down, but I also want to be with you…"

"Of course, sure, I'll- I'll cancel my meeting this afternoon and we can spend the day in. Are you sick? Let me take your temperature." He raises his hand towards Blaine's forehead, but he catches it and kisses it softly instead before shaking his head.

"No, it's not that." He takes Kurt's hand and starts walking "A girl was raped last night…"

"Oh! Oh my god, what?!" Kurt gasps "Oh, no…!"

Blaine just smiles sadly and sighs. Kurt pulls him a little closer, squeezes his hand and they make their way to Kurt's in silence, except for the call to his assistant to ask her to cancel his day. There's no one home, thankfully, so they just climb onto the couch and Kurt wraps his arms tight around Blaine.

"Wanna talk about it?" he mutters, and Blaine takes a deep breath and nods.

"She came in at three in the morning, and she wasn't even crying or anything – she was just really, really nervous, I think… And, I told you about Daniels, about the huge jackass he is, I barely tolerate him on a good day… Anyway, he was the closest to the door, and she went over to his desk and asked where she was supposed to report it… he gave her a fucking once over, and I saw it in his face. I saw him checking out her shorts and her cleavage and he fucking smirked at her, and told her to stop wasting our time."

"Oh… no…!"

"She just… choked, I guess. And left. I had to run after her and beg her to come back inside. I managed to convince her, and I helped her fill out the forms, and the report… She didn't even have a friend wither her, or… anyone who could help her, she was so ashamed."

"Did she go to the hospital?"

"Yeah, of course. I took her there, and I kept her company through the tests…" He sighs.

"Is she going to talk to a sketch artist, or…?"

"We've arrested him, actually. She knew him. It was a guy she spent the night dancing with at a party at his place, and apparently he thought he'd get something more out of it… Actually, I'd just come back from the guy's place when my shift ended… I asked Alana to take over… I like her."

"I think you should just sleep… You're probably exhausted."

"Yeah, but this isn't exactly an exhaustion that sleep alone can cure." He shook his head.

"You did everything you could."

"I didn't stop it from happening. That's why I wanted to be a cop! This 'hold your hand while you cry' bullshit is not what I wanted!"

"It's-"

"It's bullshit! Why am I sitting at a desk for hours when I could be out patrolling the city? Why aren't there men patrolling every street in this city at all hours of the night?! We need more patrol cars, and more men, and especially we need them on the streets, day and _night_!"

"Blaine, you know,-"

"And criminals need to be caught and arrested and punished for this kind of shit. I don't want my kids being afraid of walking down the street – they shouldn't be! If I have a daughter, I don't want to have to go through extraordinary lengths to keep her safe, I want her to _be _safe because the world around isn't full of shit."

"Blaine-"

"I don't want fourteen year olds getting beaten up and going through the scariest night of their lives and ending up feeling like it was their fault for not being careful enough, for flaunting it, for…. For being naïve! That's bullshit! Kids are supposed to be naïve and the world should let them!"

"Oh Blaine…"

"I was supposed to be sad because my prom was lame and my date was a bad kisser and not as cool as I hoped it would be, instead I was _heartbroken _because someone decided to beat the crap out of me, Kurt! Because the world told them that these things were kind of _ok_! _They're just fucking kids anyway, they'll grow out of it_…!" he shakes his head and runs a shaky hand over his hair, his eyes hard and intent, "And this girl,… this poor girl… maybe if rape was treated like the real fucking issue it actually is in this world, maybe someone would've taught that guy what it means when someone says no. Maybe if schools and courtrooms actually took these things seriously! Maybe if the perps were actually caught and treated like the ignorant assholes they are instead of getting a slap on the wrist and a get out of jail free card because they were _jocks…_! Maybe if he knew that his actions had consequences…! Not just for him, but… Maybe if anyone bothered to tell him how disgusting a man he was tonight, maybe then,… maybe he wouldn't have done it…" Blaine finishes, breathing hard and blinking away angry tears.

"Blaine…" Kurt sighs, leaning close and kissing his cheek "That's an awful big weight to carry on your shoulders… You can't be everywhere and stop these things from happening. But, you do have the right to be angry about it… And… I am so sorry that happened to you. You were a kid, and they had no right… Were they arrested?"

He shakes he head but shrugs "I'm over it." Blaine says, "I just wish nobody else would have to get over it, too, in the first place."

"Yeah, it sucks that they have to, but they will. And if you pulled through it, so will they. So will she." He leans in and kisses him softly "And, other than that, I don't really know what else to say…"

Blaine gives him a small smile and lets his head hang "You don't have to say anything. Thanks for listening. I know I… Well, I'm sorry I unloaded all of this on you."

"Don't be. I'm… I'm ok with being here. I'm here for you whenever. And honestly I just wish I'd recorded that so I could send it to the Mayor or… whoever has the power to…"

Blaine chuckles tiredly "The Mayor's fine."

"He should get an earful of that. Maybe he'd change things." Kurt smiles sitting up right and facing Blaine "But for now… what do you say to joining me in my bed for a long nap, and then dinner with the girls, and a movie?"

Blaine nods, a soft, tired smile gracing his features before he lets Kurt pull him to his feet and towards his bedroom. They move in comfortable silence as they strip to their underwear and slip beneath the covers. Immediately Blaine scoots over close to Kurt and lets him wrap his arms around his shoulders. And although the plan was napping they just lay there, wrapped in each other, breathing slowly sharing a few deep sighs.

"I really admire you" Kurt says after what feels like a day.

Blaine lifts his head from Kurt's chest and frowns, though his eyes are curious and sweet "Why?"

"You don't let the world get to you."

"Oh, but I do." Blaine shakes his head, the hint of a smile disappearing quickly "I spent tonight pissed at it"

"No. You misunderstand me… You're angry at it, ok, but you're not bitter or jaded… you believe in people despite the disgusting things you have to deal with… you keep your faith in us mere mortals despite everything… I'm not sure I could do that." Kurt explains taking one of Blaine's hands in his and bringing it over for a kiss.

Blaine smiles softly, and stretches his neck to place his own kiss on Kurt's lips, "You can. You do. You said it yourself," he says as he pulls away, "The reason you love your job is because it helps you keep things real. You make that choice, too."

Kurt smiles too, steals a kiss from Blaine's gentle lips and shrugs "Well, I still admire you."

Blaine chuckles quietly before tucking his head back into the crook of Kurt's neck and squeezing his hold on Kurt's waist, "I admire you back."

**-x- (end of tw: rape)**

Kurt watches carefully as Blaine watches the random assortment of people in his living room. Blaine is standing on the doorway, his own beer in hand, sipping it and looking mildly distressed. With a small groan Kurt pushes himself off the floor where he'd been sitting getting to know two of Blaine's friends for the last half an hour. He limps over to Blaine.

"Hey, you hurt?" Blaine frowns, immediately shuffling forward and helping him stand.

"What? Oh! No! My foot's just numb!" Kurt shakes his head, "But I noticed you here looking all lonely and I didn't like it."

Blaine smiles softly and cocks his head "I'm not lonely. My living room is full of people. I couldn't be lonely if I tried."

"So what's wrong?" Kurt presses on, feeling the way the alcohol slurs his words the tiniest bit.

"Nothing's wrong. It's just… we're… introducing friends..." Blaine shrugs "I'm kind of scared of what might happen…" he says with a chuckle.

"Ohhh… I'm sorry I talked you into it! You could've said no if you didn- "

"If I didn't want to I would've said no. I wanted to meet your friends, and I wanted you to meet mine. Relax, this is fun. We're just seven people having fun. _I'm_ having fun, I was just having a moment of contemplation and questioning, Kurt. I'm not freaking out." Blaine promises, half laughing, punctuating his words with a kiss to Kurt's cheek, which Kurt makes sure to turn into a real kiss.

Maybe it's the (smallish) amount of alcohol in him, but he soon forgets about everyone else and throws his arms around Blaine, pressing their bodies close and deepening the kiss. He feels Blaine reluctance in returning it, but he also feels him smile against it, so he keeps going, until not even he can ignore the shouts and catcalls from the rest of the room.

He parts from Blaine with a smacking noise and can't help the giggles that escape him. He buries his face in the crook of Blaine's neck and keeps laughing ridiculously even as his body warms, not from the alcohol, but from Blaine's arms wrapping around him and his lips pressing to his temple "You're adorable."

Kurt wants to say something remotely witty but Rachel – plastered as she is – raises from her seat on the couch and yells "Let's play spin the bottle!"

Some people make noises of enthusiastic support but Kurt wrenches himself off of Blaine and shakes his head "Spin the bottle? What are you? Ten? I'm not gonna go around kissing everybody! I only wanna kiss Blaine, and that's that."

"But-"

"Hummel is right, Rachel." Santana interrupts, her voice too teasing to mean anything good "Spin the bottle is infantile to say the least. But I wouldn't say no to a little game of truth or dare… what do you say? Getting to know each other…!"

"Oh god…!" Kurt mumbles as everyone suddenly agrees. He glances sideways at Blaine who looks just as mortified as he is "Let's go…" he shakes his head, taking Blaine's hand and guiding him to the center of the room, where Santana is already opening up a space. He hears Blaine take a deep breath and down the rest of his beer before placing the bottle in middle of the fast forming circle of people.

"As a host Blaine should go first!" Rachel announces and there's a general hum of agreement.

Blaine smiles and rolls his eyes before bending forward and spinning the bottle. It lands on Wes.

"Alright, Wes, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Huh… You will… huh… drink the rest of your beer in one go."

Everyone rolls their eyes and Santana groans "You are the biggest vanilla to ever vanilla." The room snickers and Kurt can see Blaine flushing to the tips of his ears, but before he can speak up to tell her that Blaine is not in fact anything close to vanilla (so, ok, maybe they haven't done enough to know that – but between the couple of hand jobs and blowjobs they've managed Kurt is pretty damn sure that someone who hums and groans and swallows like Blaine does while giving a head… well, let's just say that the promise of non-vanilla is pretty much there), Wes clears his throat, still chuckling when he says "Oh, no… Santana, he's really not. Get enough alcohol into him and he will be the definition on non-vanilla."

Blaine shoots Wes a murdering glare, while Kurt feels his stomach tightening dangerously.

"Do tell!" Santana smirks.

"Don't you dare!" Blaine warns him "She is not asking you a question! And you have three quarters of a beer to drink!"

Wes just smiles sweetly and tips his head back, downing his drink.

"He turns into a slut." Tina pipes up from where she'd been watching the exchange with a mischievous smile. Blaine glares at her, everyone laughs and Kurt resists the urge to go get him a new drink.

"That's nice." Santana smirks "Need a new drink, Anderson?" Blaine squints at her and shakes his head.

Wes finishes his beer and bends over to spin the bottle. It lands on Tina.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Is it true that… you were in love with Blaine when we were at Dalton and that you once molested him in his sleep?"

"I did not molest him!" Tina squealed "And that was two questions. But fine, yes, I did have a crush on him, and I once rubbed vapo-rub on his chest while he was asleep, because he was sick and I was just taking care of him. Besides, I see the error of my ways now." She finishes, face a deep shade of red and eyes fuming. Everyone is clutching their stomachs, except for Blaine who is also blushing furiously and pretending to be deeply engrossed in his own drink. She doesn't wait for silence before she spins the bottle and it lands on David. Upon him giggling out "dare" she tells him speak in a different language for the rest of the game.

Afterwards Rachel has to give Santana a lap dance, and then Rachel asks Wes if he's ever cheated on a show choir competition, which he hasn't, and then Wes dares Santana to eat a spoon full of cinnamon, and finally, once she's managed to cough every single bit out of her mouth and drank three glasses of water, the worst happens. The bottle, spun by Santana's hand, lands on Kurt.

"Truth or Dare?" She drawls.

"Oh shit." If he says truth she'll ask something embarrassing, if he says dare she'll make him do something mortifying. "Truth…?"

"Huh. Let me see… Is it true… that… you are a… bottom?"

As his heart jumps to his mouth, his blood rushes to his cheeks and his tongue goes dry, he can see, from the corner of his eye, Blaine's head snapping back to look at him.

"I… huh… I don't know?"

"You don't know?"

"I've… I've always been… I… I only ever had sex with two people and they both insisted on topping, so… But I don't… I don't think so…?"

"Blaine insists on topping?" Santana quirks an eyebrow.

And before Kurt can think, alcohol speaks for him "We haven't done that, yet."

"What?!" The whole room gasps, and Kurt can only hide his face.

"We're… we just…"

"You're going slow…!" Santana coos, but she's clearly mocking them "That's so sweet."

"Shut up. There are plenty other things that we can do besides… that. We're not… I… we… forget it. To answer your question, no, I don't think I'm _just_ a bottom." Kurt tells her and moves to spin the bottle. It lands on Blaine.

"Oh, huh. Truth or Dare?"

"Huh… right, hm, dare…?"

"Aww, this is going to be soooo cute…" Santana says in baby voice, an evil glint in her eyes and Kurt's just about had it with her mocking them.

"Kiss me. Like. Really _kiss_ me."

Blaine gives him a small, sweet smile before he moves closer, cupping Kurt's face in his hands and sealing their lips together. Kurt recognizes the intention at once – it's the way Blaine kisses him after their dates, when he's trying to convince Kurt to stay over (it works about 75% of times). It starts slow and sweet, and then, a flick of tongue and it gets deep, and with a soft moan it gets dirty, and finally it gets hungry, Blaine climbing on top of him, his hands leaving Kurt's face to grab his waist and pull him close. Like always, Blaine's lips leave Kurt's, trailing a line of wet kisses over his jaw until he reaches his ear and, nibbling on the lobe, which is when he usually says "Please stay…". Tonight, however, he says "I want you to fuck me." His voice is barely a whisper, voice low and so, so raspy, and Kurt groans, feeling his pants tightening.

When they finally part Santana's smug face has been wiped clean.

They don't do it that night both because they want it to be better than plastered-drunk sex, and because the first guests to leave do so at about four a.m., well past the time they were able to keep their eyes open and their hands coordinated for any bed-related activities that weren't sleep. Instead, fueled by much alcohol and a fire in his pants, Kurt almost cries as he hugs Blaine goodbye before leaving to sleep off the alcohol at his own place.

The next day, Kurt wakes up at three p.m., and drags himself to the couch where he finds Santana looking like hell and watching television on mute. Rachel joins them soon afterwards in desperate need of water, food and comfort movies. They're curled up on Kurt's couch trying to survive through their hangover when Blaine stops by, thoughtful enough to bring greasy, take-out food and a selection of movies for them to watch, before he leaves for work in two hours time. Santana promptly announces, yet again, that she deeply approves of his relationship to Kurt, grabbing the box of spring rolls and shoving two in her mouth at once. Blaine laughs slightly and says "That's nice." Before he gets Kurt to move over a little so he can sit down. They settle down to watch Funny Girl, at Rachel's request.

Rachel is snuggling a pillow on the armchair and Santana is sprawled on the love seat. Blaine keeps placing small kisses on the back of Kurt's neck, and Kurt keeps playing with Blaine's hands in his.

"Where do you wanna go on Saturday?" Blaine's asks him quietly.

"Shhh!" Rachel warns, not even taking her eyes off the screen for a second.

"Rachel, you've seen this a hundred times…" Kurt rolls his eyes before he turns back to Blaine "What do you mean?"

"We should… do something special."

"Why?"

"You know why…" Blaine says, tightening his arms around Kurt.

"Oh!"

"Oh…" Blaine chuckles "You should… come over…"

"Why not tonight?"

"You're completely hung-over, Kurt." Blaine teases "And I have to leave for the station in half an hour."

"Come over afterwards. I'll be feeling just peachy."

Rachel's voice interrupts them again "If you two want to make plans for your sex-capades please do so in the privacy of your own room. I want to watch the movie."

"It's Funny Girl, Rachel. You know the lines by heart."

"Are you forgetting my shift ends in the morning?" Blaine smiles teasingly, poking Kurt's side "Come on, I want to take you to dinner, first, and…"

"Ok." Kurt interrupts sighing like it's a big chore to let Blaine taking him out on a romantic night before they go back to his place and… dot, dot, dot.

-x-

They stumble through the front door in a frantic mess of arms, legs and kisses.

"Bedroom…mmm… please…?" Kurt mumbles between groans, as Blaine mouths at his neck like it's his new favorite candy.

"Mmm… yeah… yeah… defin- No, wait." Blaine pulls back and kisses Kurt full on the mouth before saying "You go ahead. I've got… I have… Well, you go ahead, I'll be there in five."

"Oh, ok…?" Kurt frowns but complies, stepping out of Blaine's embrace and walking backwards towards the bedroom door "You're… coming, right?"

Blaine laughs and nods "Yeah, yeah! Don't worry!" he says, going into the living room "And don't fall asleep!" he adds just as Kurt steps inside the bedroom. He feels a little awkward standing there alone, but he figures he might as well sit on the bed, take off his shoes and coat and make himself comfortable.

He was never really into the whole "let me get completely naked and wait for you in a sexy pose" kind of thing, so he stops at his tie and pops open the top button before sitting down, cross legged on the bed.

It's probably five minutes before he hears Blaine jogging towards the bedroom and he puts on a welcoming smile, which vanishes as soon as loud, unmistakable music starts, and Blaine is standing there in full uniform, hat and all, smirking and clearly holding back his laughter as his hips move in time with the piano chords.

"_Baby take off your coat!_" Joe Cocker's voice rings loud and clear, even if from the living room, and Blaine unzips his uniform coat "_Real slow…!_" his movements aren't the least bit teasing or even sensual, because he is clearly shaking with suppressed laughter as he shrugs off his coat and moves to toe of his shoes.

"Blaine!" Kurt gasps torn between feeling completely mortified and bursting out laughing. Once Blaine does give into his own laughter, as he dances around the bed, giving up all pretense of sensuality and just starts having fun with the music, undressing and laughing at the same time, Kurt can't do anything besides fall back in bed and twist his body with silent heaves of hilarity.

Blaine hops on to the bed, already shirtless, tie still tied loosely around his neck and belt already unclasped and puts one foot on either side of Kurt's hips, rolling his hips and his shoulders in time with the music.

"Do you like my surprise for you?" he grins, bending over to push down his pants and revealing dark blue briefs and almost tripping over himself in the process. Kurt can only laugh harder and tug at Blaine's tie so he can kiss him hard and happy.

Blaine emerges from the kiss grinning, but doesn't stop his dance, not even as he kneels, straddling Kurt's hips, and sings along happily, fiddling with Kurt's shirt buttons, undoing them one by one.

Kurt heaves as Blaine takes off his socks with a hilariously sultry wink, "Oh my god!"

Blaine beams and hurries back to stand on his feet and turning around, regaling Kurt with a very nice view of his backside and resuming the most ridiculous dance moves Kurt has ever seen, his hips moving in obscene circles. With the music well into its last third, however, he finds that Blaine has completely lost himself in the dance – he's not bothering to throw silly winks or smirks over his shoulder anymore, and the movements have become subtler and calmer. Kurt feels his own laughter fading as suddenly the twisting muscles of Blaine's back beg for his hands to touch them, his toned, luscious legs move with ease and rhythm, and his ass… his ass has Kurt's mouth drooling and fingers curling.

Blaine must notice the sudden silence because he turns around and his face is intent on Kurt's as he continues moving like he was made to stand there, on the edge of his own bed, in nothing but briefs and a policeman hat, dancing in time with sultry music, and looking at Kurt like every inch of his body is on fire.

As the song inches closer to its finish, he hooks his thumbs over the elastic band of his briefs and Kurt notices for the first time that there's the outline of Blaine's half hard cock, and he becomes aware of his own, straining against layers of briefs and pants.

With a barely there smile that looks like everything that is indecent but so, so, so right in this world, Blaine dips down, sliding the blue fabric down his naked, beautifully carved legs. Without standing back up, he moves to his knees and hands, and crawls up the bed to meet Kurt, straddling him and sitting slowly down right over his erection. The movement as he bends forward to press a hot, wet kiss over Kurt's lips feels like heaven and hell altogether.

"I…" kiss "take it…" kiss "back." kiss. He wraps his arms around Blaine's naked torso, and pulls him close "You are the best stripper to ever strip." He feels Blaine's chuckles much more than he hears them, as he presses his lips, open mouthed, wet and full of tongue, against Blaine's bare throat. Blaine throws his head back for easy access with a moan and Kurt feels the heavy thud of the hat falling on the bed, right next to him.

"Yeah?" Blaine asks, voice low and raspy as he grinds down on Kurt again.

"God yeah!"

"Well I think you're a lousy stripper…" Blaine mumbles against Kurt's collar bone "Seen as you're, huh, completely dressed and all." He smirks, pushing Kurt's shirt open.

"Help me out?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Kurt is naked in less than a minute, laying there, panting and looking up as Blaine crawls over him, hovering inches away, a hand on each side of Kurt's head. With a fleeting smirk, he dips down to suck and kiss his way towards Kurt's nipple, body dropping on top of Kurt's, its weight feeling incredible. Blaine moans and groans as Kurt writhes beneath him, and then suddenly there's nothing but cool air where his mouth used to be and Blaine's mouth is back on Kurt's, a hand wrapping around Kurt's cock.

"Fuuuck." Kurt gasps.

"Not yet…" Blaine chuckles and Kurt really wants to wipe that smug smile off his face, but he's much too preoccupied with the way Blaine's hand feels on him, warm, tight and teasing.

"You're so – ah! – funny!"

Blaine grins and reaches over to the nightstand, where Kurt had somehow missed the conveniently placed bottle of lube and pack of condoms. He kisses Kurt, long and messy before he pulls back and says "Give me your hand…"

Kurt stares for a second before complying and Blaine squirts lube onto his fingers, hand leaving Kurt's cock so it can move around Kurt's fingers spreading it and warming it. He takes the hand and reaches around himself to place it firmly on his ass "If you'll please…" he murmurs, before pushing back on Kurt's hands and dropping down to kiss him again.

Blaine's lips never let go of Kurt's – even while he's merely panting and gasping into his mouth asking for more, moving himself onto Kurt's fingers –, until he's pulling back and beaming fleetingly, reaching over for a condom "May I?"

Kurt just nods and watches as Blaine bites the packet open, and then proceeds to roll the condom on him, hand moving up and down for a few strokes. He squirts another portion of lube onto Kurt's cock, and makes a point of spreading it over every inch of it, carefully, moving his hand in long, slow, tight strokes.

He raises himself to his knees, shuffles a little forward, smiling all the way as he aligns himself with Kurt. Soon enough Kurt feels his cock engulfed in tight warmth and throws his head back with pleasure, one hand fisting the sheets, the other coming up to grab Blaine's ass cheek, sure to leave a mark with how hard he grips its flesh.

Blaine arches his own back with a groan as he starts moving at once, rocking his hips in a slow, almost torturous rhythm.

"Oh god, Blaine…!" he groans as he looks up and watches Blaine slowly close his eyes and let his head fall back, lips falling open with a silent moan. He's never seen anything so beautiful and hot at the same time "God, Blaine!" Blaine's eyes open sluggishly, and half-way. He watches Kurt with an almost smile, rolling his hips in movements so natural it's like he's dancing again. With a deep roll, Blaine dips down, to press hot lips against Kurt's jaw, kissing all the way to his ear, pulling the earlobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. This time he doesn't say anything at all, he just breathes.

Kurt's hand leaves the sheets and joins the other on Blaine's hips, and Blaine lets him completely guide his movements, sighing Kurt's name into the shell of his hear, hot breath ghosting over wet skin.

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine's torso and pulls impossibly close, feeling Blaine's every breath and heartbeat against his own, and with a deep sigh and a kiss he rolls them around, loving the way that Blaine's legs immediately wrap around his hips and he pushes down on Kurt's cock so it won't slip away in all the movement.

Kurt thrusts slow and deep for a while, letting his lips be captured and recaptured in Blaine's teeth and tongue, feeling Blaine's arms holding him close, hands spread wide over the naked expanse of his back, like they need to feel every inch of skin available.

He can feel the heat gathering, the need for it tight and greedy, and the need for even more so. He grabs Blaine's legs – groaning at the feel of strong, luscious muscle – and guides them so the back of his knees rest against his shoulders "This ok…?" he pants, pulling slightly away, in awe of Blaine's body practically bent in half beneath him. Blaine nods and beams with a gasp, hand coming over to pull Kurt back down into a kiss "So ok…" he says, and when Kurt thrusts back in, harder and faster than before, he throws his head back and groans "Yeah!" he gasps "Like that! Just like that!"

Sweat gathering all over their bodies, making them glisten and smell of men and sex, Kurt drives into Blaine harder and faster, panting and groaning, the slap of skin on skin overbearingly loud and oh so exciting.

"Right there! Right there!" Blaine gasps, wrapping his hand around himself and stroking feverishly fast, frantic in his need for release.

Kurt can feel it, the burst of heat and pleasure, right on the edge, tipping and tipping until Blaine is shouting and tightening and releasing around him in pulses, and he lets himself drop completely and without restraint towards the white expanse of heat flooding his body in devastating waves of pleasure that radiated from his innermost to every single cell of his skin, toes curling and hairs standing.

He's only mildly aware as Blaine's legs slip from his shoulders and Blaine maneuvers them so that they lay, panting, side by side.

Kurt wipes a shaking, clumsy hand over his face, chuckles to himself and lets it fall, only laughing more when it lands on Blaine's hat.

"What?" Blaine's says, voice rough.

Kurt puts the hat over Blaine's sweat drenched hair "There you go, officer."

The next morning, when Kurt turns his key in the lock and pushes the door open to find Santana leaning against the kitchen counter with her cell in her hand smiling into it he doesn't even bother asking if it's someone special. He just says "You were so wrong."

"What?" Santana frowns.

"The flavor I had last night… Was most definitely not vanilla." Kurt tells her and makes his way to his own bedroom.

"What?! Details! I need details!" Santana calls after him, nocking on his door, but Kurt just laughs to himself and pulls his shirt aside to inspect the huge hickey on his neck. There's shuffling outside and it's obvious Santana's ruckus woke Rachel up "Hummel had kinky sex last night and he's not sharing details!" he hears her outraged voice.

"It wasn't kinky." He says opening the door just a little bit "It just wasn't vanilla. It was hot. Very, very hot. Now go away and let me bask in the glory of my brand new hickey."

"Oh my god!"

-x-

_From Blaine: Cant go 4 coff 2day sry C U later mayB. Xoxo_

_From Kurt: Why?! :((( I'm sad now. But ok. Come over before your shift? (and please explain why you're typing like a brainless teenager)_

_From Blaine: Held up at work Cant talk_

_From Kurt: Wait. What kind of held up at work? Is it paperwork work, or…?_

_From Blaine: Cant tell u Cant talk_

_From Kurt: Why can't you tell me?_

_From Blaine: U'll worry._

_From Kurt: I'm worried now!_

_From Blaine: Kurt, I REALLY can't talk right now. I'll be fine. Don't worry. See you later._

Kurt stares at his cellphone in horror. Heart thumping in his chest he puts down his briefcase and his coat and looks around himself trying to figure out what to do now. Is he freaking out? Is he freaking out unnecessarily?! Blaine said not to worry, but then again he said that if he told Kurt what was happening he _would _worry.

The door opens and Santana walks in with a cup of coffee in her hand and grocery bag "Kurt, we need to have a talk about the way Rachel keeps finishing the milk and not even bothering to let us know. I do not like having to go out to buy milk first thing in the morning twice a week."

"Santana, did you notice anything happening? Like, weird…? On the streets."

"Huh?!" She eyes him like he's asked if she's seen Godzilla.

"Something that would require police force and maybe… endanger people…?"

She frowns at him because apparently he _is _crazy and says "I mean, I think I heard a police siren, but this is New York, there's always a siren. And it might've been an ambulance. I can never tell."

"A siren?!"

"Yeah. What? Why are you asking me this? Is it about Anderson?"

"He canceled our morning coffee. He said he got held up at work, and couldn't talk, and when I asked him what happened he said he couldn't tell me because I'd get worried."

"Oh!"

"Am I freaking out unnecessarily? Am I overreacting?!"

"Oh shit!" She gasps, "Ok! Turn on the TV right now! I'll check online if there's anything!"

The TV! How had Kurt not thought of it?! If it was something really bad it'd be on the news right?!

He regrets turning he TV on at once because the moment he does there's 'Breaking news' on the foot of an image of a bank and multiple police cars spread around them, door opened as shields as police officers stand pointing their guns at the building.

"Oh my god." He gasps, letting himself fall onto the couch. Santana immediately grabs her laptop and joins him there.

"Holy crap." She checks the screen on her lap "It's a bank robbery… they got hostages…"

"Do you see him? I can't see him!" Kurt gasps "Do you think he's inside?!"

"No, no… calm down. Obviously he's outside. If he's texted you he can't be a hostage. The first thing they do when they take up hostages is take their phones so they can't call anyone." Santana tries to calm him down.

"How would you know that?!"

"I see it in the movies all the time." She shrugs, though her face is still heavy and worried.

Kurt shakes his head and drops it to his hands, trying very hard not to start crying on the spot.

"Hey, hey! He'll be fine, Kurt… The SWAT team's probably going to wrap it soon enough and he won't even have to move." Santana says softly, and moves a hand to his shoulder.

He shakes his hand, shrugs and tries to find his voice "I can't watch action movies anymore, you know…?"

"What?" She frowns and cocks her head in confusion.

"Every action sequence, and car chasing scene… I just… do you notice how they just blow them up? The police, I mean… in one minute you got three police cars exploding and no one even stops to think maybe they had nice lives, maybe they had a family… maybe they have a boyfriend who really, really likes them… maybe more… you know?"

"Oh…"

"I know it's stupid – I know they're just movies, but… I can't watch it and not think that maybe someone sometime is going to be that thoughtless and that… ruthless and that Blaine's going o get hurt…" he sniffs and wipes away the single tear that had escaped him "Ignore it… I'm being stupid."

"No…" Santana smiles softly "You're not."

He gives her a tight, grateful smile and looks back to the TV, where they're filming the SWAT team assembling and apparently going over some kind of blueprints.

"Look!" Santana says "There he is – right corner, right there." She points and smiles "He's fine, he'll be fine."

Kurt just nods tersely and focuses his eyes on the small, blurry image of Blaine, very much alive and well. He's still on the first line of men around the building, which makes Kurt's chest tighten with insurmountable weight. It's a long time before anything happens – there's a lot of megaphone talking – an older man from the SWAT teams does most of it, but only slight movements on the inside. All the while Kurt just stares at the TV willing for someone to announce that it's all over and well. They don't, though.

At some point a man, all dressed in black and a ski mask, gets out of the building holding a woman in front of him – she's clearly terrified and crying as he points a gun to her hand. Kurt can't tell what the man is saying, but the news reporter is talking fast about demands and attempts at negotiations, while the cameraman zooms in frantically on the pair. Kurt hates him, because he can't see Blaine anymore.

After a few minutes the man lets her go and she runs, desperate to get away from him – the cameraman is an incompetent ass who can't zoom out fast enough for Kurt to see where she's running to – but it all happens too fast. She runs, the SWAT team takes aim at him and he responds by taking aim at her. Shots are fired.

Kurt almost falls to his knees in his haste to get closer to the TV as if that's going to help him see better or more. The camera pulls out and there's a police officer on top of the woman his body covering her, his arm outstretched, gun in hand.

"Oh my god!" Kurt gasps as he recognizes him.

"That's Blaine!" Santana gasps.

"No." Kurt breathes, unable to see if he's hurt or just lying down to cover her, "Fuck."

"He's moving, he's moving!" Santana exclaims pointing at the TV, like Kurt needed any direction to where his eyes should be, and grabbing his arm with so much force he could feel her nails digging in "Thank god, he's moving. Shit."

Another man steps out the door, his gun ready to shoot, as he holds someone in front of him as a shield. Kurt can see Blaine's head lifting and looking at the man, where he's slowly walking forwards, making his way to a supposed escape, not noticing the way he's now sideways to Blaine, giving him a clear shot without fear of hurting the hostage, and not more than ten feet away from him. Kurt begs him silently not to move and not to have any ideas, because he really doesn't need to watch his boyfriend getting shot at on TV.

But then the man looks to his other side and Kurt really does scream because he can see Blaine taking the chance and taking aim. The man sees it too, the flash of movement in the corner of his eyes and he turns, but Blaine is miraculously faster and suddenly the man drops his gun, arm snapping back to him like… not, not like, _really_ having been shot. The hostage takes his chance to get away and, as soon as he runs, there's another shot fired from the SWAT team and the man drops to the ground, clutching his leg.

Blaine is carefully moving to crouch, trying not to expose the woman he was protecting as he does, his gun still expertly held and aiming.

Finally, not two seconds after two more men step out, hands in the air, and the SWAT team are quick to round them up and go inside. Suddenly the TV screen is a mess of people moving frantically. Kurt thinks he can see Blaine helping the woman towards an ambulance, but it's barely of flash of movement.

"Oh god…" He sighs letting himself fall back against the couch and covering his face with his hands.

"I never want to…" Santana starts but seems unable to find the rest of her words, resuming to shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

"I don't think I can go to work right now…"

"Honestly, I don't think I can either, but you probably have more of an excuse." She says, blinking her eyes hard and Kurt is surprised to find them reddish and bright.

He gives her a smile he's not quite sure transpires on his face before moving fast to grab his coat "I'm gonna go."

"Where?"

"His place. I need to see him." He tells her, door already open "Thanks for everything, Tana. I don't know what I'd have done without you here."

"Anytime." She says.

_10:03 am, From Kurt: Never do this again._

_10:36 am, From Kurt: I mean, I know it's your job, but._

_11:03 am, From Kurt: I don't have the right to ask you to change your whole life but this was torture._

_11:50 am, From Kurt: I mean. I admire you and your courage and everything. I like YOU and that's a part of you, I guess._

_12:04 pm, From Kurt: What I mean to say is that I'll never get used to this, but maybe I'll learn to accept it._

_12:20 pm, From Kurt: It's not even like it happens that often? Right?_

_12:24 pm, From Kurt: And you're good. I saw you. You're good, so you'll be fine._

_12:37 pm, From Kurt: Please come home, I really need to see you and touch you and be with you. Please._

_12:40 pm, From Kurt: Oh god, I'm being unreasonably clingy, aren't I?_

_12:57 pm, From Kurt: I was just so scared. I like you so much._

Kurt waits for hours sitting right by Blaine's door, his back pressed against it, his knees pulled to his chest and forehead resting on them. He can't stop thinking about everything. Not even just this one morning, but his whole relationship to Blaine. They'd been going out for four months, going on five, and maybe it was too soon to really know but… He'd never felt like this for anyone in his life, and soon or not, love or not, he was pretty sure he was on the right track to finding _it_. _**It**_.

More than once he considers getting up and going back home, doing the normal thing and waiting for Blaine to call him. But then, Blaine's the kind of guy who thrives on emotional honesty and it wouldn't be right for Kurt to just downplay how much he feels for Blaine, just because it's unconventional or unusual to be this involved with somebody so soon or because Blaine might not feel as much just yet. He always ends up deciding to stay, and let himself be that dauntingly vulnerable – maybe it can count as practice for how scared he will be whenever Blaine is_ working_.

When he does finally hear the heavy footfalls of boots on stairs and Blaine appears, looking absolutely exhausted and like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, Kurt springs to his feet.

"Kurt?" Blaine frowns and then his eyes widen and he gasps "Oh my god! I didn't call you! Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I ju-"

Kurt doesn't let him finish, tackling him with a tight embrace, so he can feel Blaine's body against his, very much alive, and very much there "I was so scared… I saw the whole thing… on TV!"

"You did?" Blaine asks, his face buried against Kurt's shoulder.

"I did! I saw you, Blaine! I saw the whole thing, and, oh god, Blaine, I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't want you to see that, or know-"

"I want to know!" Kurt says, pulling back so he can look in Blaine's eyes "I always want to know. Please."

"Ok." Blaine nods at once "Ok."

Kurt pulls him close again and Blaine clings to him, too.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you right after. I was helping the hostages, and then I had reporters shoving cameras at my face, and my commander asking me just-… oh god…! The whole thing was crazy afterwards… I'm so sorry! I think I lost my phone somewhere in there."

"I don't care, it's fine. I just care that you're ok."

Blaine holds on tighter "Thank you."

"You shot a man." Kurt mutters, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"I did…" Blaine nods.

"Have you ever…?" Kurt asks pulling away, but letting his hands find Blaine's.

Blaine looks at him for a second before nodding "I've shot people three times now. But I've never killed anyone." He says, and then he bites his lips and shrugs half-heartedly "Yet… maybe…"

Kurt squeezes his hands and steps in closer to kiss him gently on the forehead, "You should just rest."

"Yes!" Blaine half laughs "Please!"

They go inside at once and Kurt helps Blaine out of his uniform, draws the shades on the windows and makes them both some chamomile tea which they drink in silence, already tucked into bed. Once Blaine puts his cups down, looking exhausted but much more relaxed Kurt wraps his arms around him, and lets him bury his head on the crook of Kurt's neck.

Blaine falls asleep almost at once, his breathing becoming deep and slow, and his arms slackening around Kurt's waist. Kurt continues to draw patterns on Blaine's shoulder with his fingertips for what is probably hours, until he too finally falls into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

When he wakes up, it's to Blaine's mouth on his lips, and he smiles and kisses back in lazy and happy movements, arms coming around to wrap around Blaine's neck "Hi…"

"Hi." Blaine smiles, kissing him again "I'll give you a key so you won't have to wait outside, next time…"

Kurt looks at him torn between smiling and begging him for there never to be a next time.

"Oh, whatever else you might find it useful for…" Blaine adds, still grinning.

Kurt returns it brightly nodding "I'll give you one, too, then." He pulls Blaine down for another kiss.

They don't talk anymore, safe for the names and moans that spill out of their mouths without them even knowing, as hands explore and feel, as lips kiss and tongues taste… and as their bodies move with one another in a way they've never moved before – like they were made to be one. When they climax they do it together, and Kurt can feel his heart bursting into a million little flecks of light all over his body. He wonders if he's glowing. He feels like he's glowing. His eyes are too heavy to open and check, though.

Above him, Blaine's body drops with a whimpering sigh. "God, Kurt…!"

Kurt turns his face, burying it in the crook of Blaine's neck, wrapping his arms tight around Blaine's body, pulling him even closer and loving how it feels to have Blaine's weight completely on top of him. He finally opens his eyes and wow,_ Blaine_ is glowing – or at least it looks like he is, because Kurt's never seen such a mesmerizing smile, and such soulful eyes. It makes him smile too, and reach up to kiss him.

"There's an ocean of grossness between us…" he mumbles finally, and feels Blaine's body rumble with laughter, before he rolls away to lay on his back, next to Kurt. He places a quick peck on his sweaty shoulder and springs from bed, hurrying over to get a clean towel.

After he comes back, he cleans both of them carefully, Blaine half asleep again, though humming happily as Kurt kisses his newly clean skin.

Blaine opens only one eye, lazy and sated, and reaches over to take Kurt's hand in his and kiss its palm "Thanks, love." He mumbles against the skin before pulling at in a silent request for Kurt to come back to his arms.

Kurt's heart stutters in its beats and he can feel the blood rushing faster and wilder in his body, not knowing what to say or do. Blaine's eyes are closed again, and even though he's not asleep, because he's still smiling, and his thumb is still swiping gently over Kurt's knuckles, he might fall asleep soon and Kurt might loose his chance to say it back. Without allowing himself any room for second-guessing, Kurt moves a little closer and says, "Anytime, love."

He catches the way Blaine's thumb stills and his breathing stops, but then, not even a second later, it starts again, and Blaine's smile is even happier. Kurt closes his own eyes and let's himself be lulled into sleep, feeling safe and content to be in the arms of someone he loves and who loves him back.

He's practically asleep when Blaine's voice brings him back, barely above a whisper, almost like he expects Kurt to not catch it.

"You know when you asked me, at that wedding, what I meant by us living in the same world?…"

"Hmm." Kurt nods against Blaine's chest.

"With my ex… well, with most people really, I kept thinking that maybe I was the one in the wrong. That maybe I was silly for believing in all of _this_. I mean, I thought maybe _I_ didn't know what love is, and maybe it was just not… that it wasn't what I thought it was. That maybe I'd built up my expectations so much that… I was just… a hopeless romantic. I thought that maybe they were right and I just wanted too much… but… in my heart, I still wouldn't stop believing it, I kept feeling like… like it was real, you know? I never stopped feeling like it has to be more than just good sex and some shared hobbies. That we deserve more than that, you know? That we get to have butterflies, comfort, warmth, fire and electricity in our veins – all at once. That we get to have _magic_. " Blaine sighs, and moves so that he's right there in front of Kurt, they're faces barely an inch apart, "With you, I don't just feel like that… I also feel like you get it, and like you feel it too. I feel like I'm not trying to prove anything to you. I feel like I don't have to prove anything to you."

Kurt feels himself burning with love and passion as he lifts his head and finds Blaine's eyes. He would take a thousand more mornings like this one if it meant getting to look into these eyes and witness this smile. He brushes a reverent finger over Blaine's cheek, "You're right. You don't. From the first moment I saw you, you haven't had to prove _anything _to me, Blaine." He bends close and kisses him sweet and slow "I'd want you even if you were a stripper."

Blaine twists his body in laughter and Kurt makes a mental note to put a dollar in the offensive jar. But it's so worth it if he gets to see this beautiful man laugh and smile.

**THE END**

(I'm not planning on writing more _chapters_, but, like with any other story I've written, I will take prompts on my tumblr – a-simple-rainbow – and write drabbles)


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